T'^'i. 


I 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 
OF  CIML  WAR  NOVELS 
PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


/  A 


i^*****oou«^ieN 


<^/ 


V 


TOBIAS  WILSON 


J^    TA.LE 


OF   THE 


GREAT    REBELLION. 


BY 

HOK  JERE.  CLEME^^S. 


FIRST    SERIES. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT    &    CO. 

18  65. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1865,  by 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  &  CO., 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Conrt  of  the  United  States  for  the  Eaatern 

District  of  Pennsylvania. 


To    Mu  Wife. 


It  is  now,  my  dear  Mary,  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century  since  we 
began  the  journey  of  life  together.  Both  were  infants  in  law,  and 
children  in  reality;  but  the  love  and  faith  which  were  plighted  then, 
with  mingled  smiles  and  tears,  have  never  been  blighted  by  adversity, 
or  corrupted  by  prosperity.  In  joy  and  in  grief,  amid  petty  trials  and 
in  great  afflictions,  you  have  been  a  comfort  and  a  support  to  me — rob- 
bing sorrow  of  its  sting — relieving  sickness  of  its  weariness  and  pain, 
and  ever  pointing,  from  the  gloom  of  night,  to  the  brightness  of  the 
coming  morn.  What  the  future  may  bring  forth,  we  cannot  foreknow; 
for  life  is  a  Pandora's  box  from  which  strange  and  fearful  things  are 
forever  winging  their  flight  to  homes  and  to  hearts  that  are  apparently 
the  most  secure.  But  the  past  is  ours;  and  in  the  memory  of  that^a«^ 
I  have  thought  it  appropriate  to  write  your  name  on  this  page  of  a 
work  which  records  a  love  as  pure  and  trustful  as  ever  glowed  in  the 
bosom  of  a  daughter  of  Earth,  although  its  opening  life  was  the  fruit  of 
troubled  times,  and  blood  and  tears  were  witnesses  to  its  maturity^ 

JERE.  CLEMEXS. 
West  Philadelphia,  January,  1S65, 


602772 


PREFACE. 


Whex  the  last  work  of  the  author  was  given  to 
the  public,  he  promised  that  it  should  be  followed 
by  a  sequel.  But  in  a  few  months  the  fires  of  ci^^l 
war  were  kindled  in  the  land.  The  mad  ambition 
of  a  few  unprincipled  leaders,  aided  by  the  insane 
fears  of  the  Southern  slaveholders,  brought  about 
a  rebellion  which  has  no  parallel  in  history,  whether 
we  reo;ard  the  insisrnificance  of  the  causes  which 
led  to  it ;  the  madness  of  engaging  in  it  for  such 
causes,'  or  for  any  cause  short  of  intolerable  oppres- 
sion ;  the  immensity  of  the  means  and  resources 
which  have  been  developed  on  both  sides;  the 
grandeur  and  obstinacy  of  the  struggle;  the  hero- 
ism manifested  in  a  bad  cause  on  one  side,  or  the 
steady  and  dauntless  courage,  unfiinching  nerve, 
and  unwavering  resolution  to  maintain  the  right  on 
the  other. 

Located,  as  the  author  was,  for  more  than  three 
years   in  the  very  heart  of  this   Titanic   contest, 


VI  -  PREFACE. 

steady  devotion  to  literary  labor  was  an  impossi- 
bility. A  few  memorandums  were  made,  a  few 
notes  taken,  a  few  pages  were  written  from  time 
to  time  as  opportunity  offered ;  but,  day  by  day,  the 
subject  diminished  in  interest  as  events  of  a  more 
excitins:  character  throno:ed  the  arena.  After  his 
removal  from  the  theater  of  war  to  the  quietude 
of  this  city,  the  work  was  resumed,  but  finally  laid 
aside  as  better  adapted  to  publication  in  more 
peaceful  times. 

The  characters  of  this  story  are  real,  though,  of 
course,  the  names  and  locations  are  changed,  so  as 
not  to  wound  the  sensibility  of  the  survivors,  their 
friends,  or  relatives.  ^N'othing  is  depicted  here 
which  did  not  occur  as  related,  or  which  has  not  a 
parallel  in  some  other  actual  occurrence. 

I  remember  that  in  a  kindly  criticism  of  a  for- 
mer work,  written  by  a  gentleman  who  is'  now  a 
o;eneral  officer  in  the  armv  of  the  United  States, 
certain  passages  were  commented  on  as  too  extrava- 
gant for  even  the  privileges  of  fiction.  li  so  hap- 
pened that  those  very  passages  icere  literal  transcripts 
from  real  life.  He  was  young  then,  and  I  venture 
to  assert,  that  if  he  were  to  write  that  criticism 
over  again,  in  the  light  of  his  experience  as  an 
officer,  it  would  be  a  very  different  affair. 

In  what  I  have  now  written,  and  in  what  I  shall 


PREFACE.  Vll 

write  hereafter,  for  this  book  is  onlv  the  first  of  a 
series,  my  object  is  to  give  a  true  and  faithful  pic- 
ture of  life  during  the  first  years  of  the  rebellion, 
at  least  in  parts  of  the  Southern  States.  Omnia 
vidi  magna  pars  fid,  if  not  literally  true  as  to  every 
incident,  is  true  as  to  the  greater  part. 

It  is  impossible  for  any  one  who  has  not  wit- 
nessed them  to  appreciate  the  wrongs,  indignities, 
and  outrao^es  to  which  the  Southern  Union  men 
have  been  subjected.  Their  property  taken  or  de- 
stroyed, their  persons  constantly  threatened  with 
incarceration,  if  not  assassination,  and  their  sons 
dragged  to  the  slaughter-pen  ;  these  were  common 
occurrences,  whose  frequent  recurrence  deprived 
them  of  half  their  horror.  The  sending  of  our 
wives  into  exile,  without  the  means  of  subsist- 
ence, and  dependent  for  bread  upon  the  charity 
of  the  people  of  the  I^orth,  or  of  such  chance  refu- 
gees who  had  escaped  under  happier  auspices, — 
this,  too,  in  time  ceased  to  be  a  subject  of  com- 
plaint. But  there  were  a  thousand  acts  of  brutal- 
ity which  cannot  be  described  without  giving  of- 
fense to  the  ears  of  decency.  From  a  faithful 
X-)icture  of  such  things  the  eyes  of  a  modest  woman 
would  turn  away  with  unutterable  loathing.  From 
the  present  series  all  of  these  are  omitted,  and  only 
such  matter  is  introduced  as  may  be  read  without 


Vnl  PREFACE. 

a  blush,  unless  it  be  a  blush  of  indignation  rather 
than  of  shame. 

One  word  more.  In  this  volume,  everything  has 
been  sacrificed  to  the  painting  of  a  correct  portrait. 
If  my  readers  look  for  other  adjuncts  to  keep  alive 
their  interest  in  the  tale,  they  will  be  apt  to  reap 
disappointment. 

The  Author. 

Philadelphia,  Jan.  9,  1865. 


TOBIAS   WILSON. 


CHAPTER  I. 

In  the  wild  and  mountainous  region  of  North  Alabama, 
near  the  sources  of  Paint  Rock  River,  there  lived,  in  the 
year  1860,  an  old  man  with  a  widowed  daughter  and  her 
only  son.  Time  had  dealt  kindly  with  Robert  Johnson, 
for  although  he  had  passed  his  sixty-fifth  year,  he  was  yet 
strong  and  healthy,  his  bearing  was  erect,  his  step  firm,  and 
his  gray  eyes  clear  and  bright.  His  daughter,  Mrs.  Wil- 
son, had  inherited  the  strong  constitution  of  her  father, 
and  now,  in  the  thirty-eighth  year  of  her  age,  her  symmet- 
rical but  rather  too  masculine  form  betrayed  no  symptom 
of  decay.  Her  face  had  never  been  beautiful,  but  there 
was  about  it  an  expression  of  quick  intelligence  and  of 
frank  good  humor,  which  harmonized  well  with  her  comely 
figure,  and  made  her  altogether  a  very  pleasant  person  to 
look  upon.  The  boy,  who  was  about  eighteen  years  of 
age,  bore  little  resemblance  to  his  mother  or  grandfather. 
He  was  light  and  slender,  so  much  so  that  he  appeared  at 
least  two  years  younger  than  he  really  was.  His  originally 
chestnut-colored  hair,  from  constant  exposure  to  sun  and 
wind  had  changed  to  a  dingy  brown,  and  his  features  were 
irregular  and  sallow,  but  they  were  lit  up  by  dark  hazel 
eyes  as  piercing  and  brilliant  as  those  of  the  hawk  on  his 
native  mountains. 

2  (9) 


10  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

Mr.  JohDson  had  no  neighbors  properly  so  called.  The 
valley  in  which  his  hnmble  cabin  stood  was  one  of  the 
most  secluded  in  that  wild  and  thinly  settled  region.  If 
the  reader  will  give  roe  his  (or  her)  attention  while  I  de- 
scribe it,  the  tale  which  I  am  about  to  relate  will  be  better 
understood. 

It  is  a  little  low  spot,  of  not  more  than  a  hundred  acres, 
shut  in  completely  on  three  sides  by  high  and  precipitous 
mountains, — among  the  loftiest  and  most  rugged  of  the 
Cumberland  Mountain  range.  At  the  northeastern  ex- 
tremity, near  the  base  of  the  mountain,  there  is  an  unex- 
plored cave,  from  the  mouth  of  which  flows  a  stream  of  icy 
coldness.  This  stream  runs  alonor  the  eastern  base  of  the 
mountain,  and  finally  makes  its  way  out  through  a  narrow 
opening,  of  not  more  than  twenty  yards  in  width,  at  the 
south  side  of  the  valley.  The  only  road  by  which  the  val- 
ley cau  be  entered  by  anything  on  wheels,  is  the  gravelly 
bed  of  the  stream.  In  the  dry  season  it  is  nothing  more 
than  a  tiny  rill.  But  in  winter  and  the  early  spring  the 
volumes  of  water  which  rush  down  from  the  sides  of  the 
mountain  convert  it  into  a  deep  and  dangerous  torrent. 
On  the  narrow  strip  of  land  between  this  stream  and  the 
mountain  side,  and  within  a  few  yards  of  the  cave  from 
which  the  streamlet  flows,  stand,  or  rather  stood,  the  cabin 
of  Robert  Johnson.  The  dwelling  was  a  double  cabin, 
built  of  unhewn  logs,  with  a  passage  between.  One  room 
of  the  cabin  served  Mrs.  Wilson  as  kitchen,  dining-room, 
and  bed-room.  The  other  room  was  occupied  by  the  old 
man  and  his  grandson,  and  such  rare  visitors  as  sometimes 
found  their  wav  to  this  secluded  dell. 

It  was  early  in  October,  in  the  year  1860,  and  on  the 
day  our  story  begins,  there  was  a  political  meeting  in  a 
large  valley  over  the  mountain,  about  five  miles  from  John- 
son's house.     There  were  speakers  representing  respect- 


TOBIAS   WILSON.  11 

ively  the  parties  of  Bell,  Douglas,  and  Breckenridge.  At 
the  close  of  the  meeting,  Mr.  Johnson  cordially  invited  me 
to  spend  the  night  at  his  house,  and,  as  by  crossing  the 
mountain  at  that  point  I  could  save  nearly  twenty  miles  of 
my  next  day's  journey,  I  gladly  accepted  his  invitation. 
A  bridle  path  was  the  only  road  leading  over  the  mount- 
ain, and  I  knew  it  to  be  steep  and  rugged  in  the  extreme ; 
but  I  had  been  accustomed  to  scrambling  over  such  paths 
from  my  childhood,  and  felt  sure  that  I  should  be  more 
than  compensated  for  the  fatigue  by  the  glorious  scenery 
through  which  it  led. 

There  are  few  things  in  nature  to  equal  the  mingled 
beauty  and  sublimity  with  which  the  Cumberland  Mount- 
ains are  wrapped  when  autumn  throws  its  many-colored 
robe  about  their  giant  forms.  In  other  lands,  and  in  our 
own,  I  have  seen  loftier  mountain  peaks  and  reveled  in 
the  contemplation  of  landscapes  as  lovely  and  as  sweet ;  but 
in  the  one  case  it  was  grandeur  alone,  and  beauty  in  the 
other.  Nowhere  else  is  there  such  a  mingling  together  of 
all  that  is  soft  and  beautiful  with  all  that  is  grand  and  sub- 
lime. The  day  was  clear  and  bright,  and  not  a  cloud 
darkened  the  blue  heaven  above  us.  The  sun  was  still 
above  the  western  tree  tops,  and  poured  a  flood  of  golden 
radiance  upon  the  mighty  wall  which  rose  before  us  with 
its  rugged  sides  adorned  and  almost  hidden  by  living  gar- 
lands of  green  and  purple  and  gold,  scattered  there  in 
magnificent  profusion  by  the  prodigal  hand  of  nature.  In 
that  land  the  mountains  are  almost  invariably  covered  with 
a  thick  growth  of  trees  and  bushes,  embracing  every  va- 
riety of  the  productions  of  the  soil,  and  the  effect  produced 
by  the  first  frosts  of  autumn  is  indescribably  beautiful. 
Upon  one  tree  the  leaves  have  assumed  a  deep  purple  tint, 
another  has  changed  to  a  bright  yellow,  another  has 
clothed  itself  in  sober  russet ;  upon  yet  another,  the  foli- 


12  TOBIAS   WILSON. 

age  at  a  little  distance  presents  the  appearance  of  having 
been  freshly  painted  white,  and  thickly  scattered  among 
these  the  evergreen,  pine,  and  cedar  spread  out  their 
branches,  with  seemingly  conscious  pride,  to  challenge  the 
admiration  of  the  beholder  for  the  brighter  green  which 
the  cool  days  of  autumn  have  brought  to  take  the  place  of 
the  dull  verdure  they  had  worn  under  the  scorching  sua 
of  summer. 

As  we  approached  the  mountain,  the  path  gradually  be- 
came so  narrow  that  it  was  necessary  to  ride  in  single  file, 
an  interruption  to  our  conversation  which  I  hailed  with 
joy,  since  it  left  me  in  undisturbed  liberty  to  feast  my 
senses  upon  that  glorious  panorama.  It  was  a  scene  upon 
which  a  great  poet  or  a  great  painter  might  have  gazed 
forever,  not  only  with  undiminished,  but  increasing  rap- 
ture. 

We  had  ascended  a  little  more  than  half  way  when  we 
reached  a  bench  of  the  mountain,  upon  which  my  compan- 
ion halted  to  breathe  his  horse.  When  I  reined  up  by  hia 
side,  his  first  remark  satisfied  me  that  he  had  been  drinking 
in  the  rapturous  delight  I  had  fancied  was  all  ray  own. 

"It  is  not  often,  Mr. ,"  he  said,  pointing  to  the  val- 
ley below  us,  "it  is  not  often  that  such  a  picture  can  be 
found  in  the  galleries  of  the  greatest  masters  !" 

"Xot  often!"  1  exclaimed;  "say  rather  never.  No 
human  hand  can  paint,  no  human  tongue  can  justly  de- 
scribe it  I" 

He  looked  at  me  for  a  moment  in  some  surprise,  I  thought, 
at  the  enthusiasm  of  my  words  and  manner. 

"  I  thought,"  he  said,  in  the  tone  of  one  asking  a  ques- 
tion, "that  you  were  a  native  of  these  mountains." 

"  So  I  am.  I  am  too  proud  of  my  birth-place  to  conceal 
or  deny  it." 

"Then  you  must  be  fauiiliar  with  sights  like  this,  and  yet 


TOBIAS    WILSOX.  13 

you  speak  of  it  with  as  much  enthusiasm  as  if  you  had 
discovered  a  great  treasure,  or  drank  for  the  first  time  from 
the  cup  of  a  new  joy." 

"I  have  been,  indeed,  familiar  with  such  sights  from  a 
period  which  dates  further  back  than  memory  will  serve 
me.  I  even  think  that  I  know  some  points  in  this  range 
of  mountains  from  which  the  view  is  more  striking  than 
this;  but  it  is  a  new  joy,  as  you  term  it,  nevertheless,  for 
it  is  one  with  which  the  soul  can  never  be  sated." 

"I  think  you  are  right,"  he  replied.  "When  I  came  to 
this  country,  some  ten  years  ago,  and  enjoyed  for  the  first 
time  the  wild  beauty  of  its  mountain  scenery,  I  thought 
that  after  awhile  it  would  become  so  familiar  as  to  be  in- 
difi'erent  to  me ;  but  years  have  passed,  and  the  sensations 
it  creates  are  still  the  same." 

"But,"  he  continued,  "we  must  be  jogging  on.  We 
have  barely  time  to  reach  my  cabin  by  sundown,  and  it  is 
far  more  pleasant  to  gaze  upon  these  mountains  by  daylight 
than  to  wander  among  them  after  nightfall." 

This  was  an  assertion  which  my  experience  did  not  allow 
me  to  contradict.  Some  such  idea  seemed  also  to  have 
taken  possession  of  our  horses,  for  when  their  heads  were 
again  turned  up  the  steep  ascent,  they  moved  forward  of 
their  own  accord  at  such  an  increased  rate  of  speed  as  gave 
unmistakable  proof  that  shelter  and  food  would  be  as 
agreeable  to  them  as  to  their  riders.  Much  of  the  beauty 
of  the  scenery  still  lingered  about  us,  but  the  words  of  my 
companion  had  afforded  me  other  themes  for  thought.  I 
could  not  doubt  that  he  was  an  educated  and  cultivated 
man,  and  that  he  had  been  reared  in  a  different  society 
from  that  about  him. 

Was  he  one  of  that  not  uncommon  class  who,  having 
"seen  better  times,"  wither  away  at  the  first  breath  of  mis- 
fortune, and  become  ever  afterward  alike  useless  to  them- 

2* 


14  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

selves  and  to  society?  No;  he  was  clearly  not  a  man  to 
give  way  to  despair.  There  was  in  his  tone  and  manner 
no  symptom  of  discontent.  His  whole  bearing  was  free, 
easy,  independent,  without  a  trace  of  that  weak  and  un- 
manly spirit  which  goes  about  begging  for  even  the  sym- 
pathy of  strangers.  I  had  been  told  that  he  was  a  farmer 
in  humble  circumstances,  how  humble  I  did  not  know,  but 
it  was  apparent  that  his  situation  was  one  over  which  he 
shed  no  tears  himself,  and  for  which  he  asked  the  sympathy 
of  no  one  else. 

When  we  arrived  at  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  the 
shadows  had  already  deepened  in  the  valley  below  us.  The 
sun  was  still  shining,  but  its  beams  were  completely  shut 
out  from  the  little  glen  by  the  lofty  mountains  wliich  every- 
where hedged  it  in.  The  domestic  fowls  had  long  since 
sought  their  roosting  places,  and,  as  we  descended,  we  were 
greeted  by  that  peculiar  twittering  of  birds  and  insects 
which  gives  notice  that  they  have  settled  themselves  for  a 
night's  repose.  A  little  lower  we  perceived  the  glimmer- 
ing of  a  light  through  the  window  of  the  cabin,  and  heard 
the  barking  of  dogs,  not  exactly  in  anger,  but  rather  in 
doubt.  It  was  a  notice  to  the  inmates  that  some  one  was 
approaching,  but  whether  friend  or  foe,  these  canine  senti- 
nels had  not  yet  decided.  Before  we  reached  the  gate,  how- 
ever, they  came  bounding  over  the  slight  impediment  of  a 
rail  fence  which  surrounded  the  premises,  whining  and 
leaping  upon  their  master's  horse  in  the  exuberance  of  their 
joy.  Soon  afterward,  the  boy  who  has  been  described  in 
the  preceding  pages  emerged  from  the  cabin,  bearing  an 
iron  lamp  to  light  his  grandfather  to  the  house. 

"Here,  Tobias,"  said  the  old  man,  "take  our  horses,  and 
when  I  have  shown  this  gentleman  in  I  will  join  you  in  the 
stable." 

I  demurred  to  this  arrangement  at  once, — insisting  on 


T  0  B  I  A  S    W  I  L  S  0  N.  15 

taking  care  of  my  own  horse.     It  was  so  settled  at  last, 
and  all  three  proceeded  to  the  stable.     After  the  horses 
had  been  well  fed  and  rubbed  down,  we  passed  on  to  the 
cabin.     Here  we  found  Mrs.  Wilson  busily  engaged  in  pre- 
paring the  supper.     She  suspended  her  occupation  for  a 
minute  or  so  when  I  was  introduced  by  her  father,  but  al- 
most immediately  resumed  her  household  duties.     A  large 
fire  of  logs  was  burning  on  the  ample  hearth  of  the  ad- 
joining room,  and   much  to  my  satisfaction   I  was  soon 
seated  before  it,  enjoying  to  the  full  the  animal  comfort  it 
imparted.     Here  the  idea  that  ray  entertainer  had  been 
accustomed  to  more  polished  society  than  was  to  be  found 
in  these  mountains  again  occurred  to  me.     I  would  not  be 
guilty  of  the  rudeness  of  putting  direct  questions  upon  the 
subject,  but  I  did  not  hesitate  so  to  direct  the  conversation 
as  to  bring  it  out,  if  he  was  disposed  to  be  at  all  communi- 
cative.    I   cannot  tell  whether  or  not   he  suspected  my 
object,  but,  at  all  events,  he  said  nothing  to  gratify  my 
curiosity,  and  I  sat  down  to  the  supper-table  not  a  whit 
wiser  than  before.     As  usual  in  that  country,  the  evening 
meal  was  a  bounteous  one,  consisting  of  ham,  eggs,  veni- 
son, butter,  biscuits,  corn   cakes,  coffee,  and  milk.     My 
mountain  ride  and  the  keen  air  of  an  October  evening  had 
given  me  a  voracious  appetite,  and  I  feasted  to  excess  upon 
the  solid  food  before  me.     Mrs.  Wilson  retired  early  after 
supper,  but  the  old  gentleman  and  myself  talked  long  and 
earnestly  of  the  threatening  aspect  of  the  times. 

"  We  are  passing  through  a  fearful  ordeal,"  he  said, 
"and  I  am  not  ashamed  to  confess  that  I  am  alarmed  be- 
yond measure.  You  heard  those  men  who  were  shouting 
for  Breckenridge  to-day.  They  are  honest  and  well-mean- 
ing citizens,  but  their  minds  have  been  poisoned  by  the 
devilish  arts  of  those  who  have  crept  into  their  confidence 
by  preaching  democracy,  and  they  are  now  being  blindly 


16  T  0  B  I  A  S    W  I  L  S  0  X. 

led  on  to  the  commission  of  a  terrible  crime,  which  must 
be  followed  by  an  equally  terrible  retribution." 

"  I  admit,"  I  replied,  "  that  there  is  great  danger ;  but  let 
us  worli  to  avert  it,  and  still  hope." 

'^Woi'kl  certainly!"  he  exclaimed;  "but  hope  is  not  alto- 
gether a  creature  of  the  will.  I  have  tried  to  hope,  and 
cannot.  I  suppose  that  other  men's  neighbors  are  in  all 
essential  particulars  like  mine,  and  that  they  are  equally 
liable  to  be  operated  upon  by  like  passions  and  like  mo- 
tives. Tell  a  Breckenridge  Democrat  that  there  is  danger 
to  the  Union  from  him  and  his  leading  supporters,  and  lie 
will  believe  in  his  heart,  if  he  does  not  tell  you  to  your 
face,  that  you  are  trvins:  to  cheat  him  out  of  his  vote  bv 
practicing  a  Whig  trick  upon  him.  To  the  minds  of  such 
men  there  is  no  avenue  for  the  entrance  of  unprejudiced 
reason.  They  must  taste  the  bitter  fruit  before  they  will 
believe  that  it  exists. 

"I  assume  that  the  great  body  of  the  democracy  in  the 
Southern  States  are  like  these,  and  as  they  constitute  a 
large  majority,  we  may  look  for  the  worst.  They  are  not 
prepared  now  to  take  the  irrevocable  step.  If  it  was  pro- 
posed to  them  they  would  shrink  back  with  horror;  but  they 
will  be  led  on  by  their  wily  leaders  from  one  act  to  an- 
other, they  will  so  fetter  themselves  by  the  adoption  of 
threatening  resolutions,  and  so  commit  themselves  to  re- 
sistance upon  the  happening  of  this  or  that  contingency, 
that  at  last  it  will  be  easy  to  persuade  them  they  cannot 
retrace  their  steps  with  honor,  and  that  the  only  hope  of  a 
peaceful  settlement  is  to  be  found  in  presenting  an  united 
and  determined  front." 

"  Well,"  I  asked,  "  may  not  good  come  from  that  union  ? 
May  it  not  lead  to  an  understanding  which  will  effectually 
secure  us  against  dangerous  quarrels  in  the  future?  Is  it 
not  better  that  the  South  should  present  an  united  front  in 


TO  BIAS    WILSON.  17 

whatever  course  it  takes,  at  least  until  the  sword  is  drawn 
and  the  dark  stain  of  a  brother's  blood  discolors  the  soil, 
and  cries  out  to  heaven  for  vensreance  on  the  wronsr-doer  ?" 

"Undoubtedly,"  he  said,  "if  our  leaders  were  honest, 
and  there  was  really  any  wrong  to  be  redressed,  the  una- 
nimity of  the  demand  would  increase  the  chances  of  a 
peaceful  settlement;  but  what  wrong  has  the  Government 
of  the  United  States  ever  done  to  us  ?  What  is  there  to 
be  settled?  Individuals  and  communities  throughout  the 
North  have  spoken  and  acted  in  a  manner  hostile  to  slav- 
ery. Be  it  so.  The  Government  is  not  responsible  for 
that.  It  has  discharged  its  whole  duty  and  more  than  its 
duty  in  this  respect.  There  has  never  been  a  time  when 
our  peculiar  institution  was  hedged  round  with  so  many 
defenses  as  it  now  is;  and  yet  we  are  on  the  verge  of  a 
revolution,  whose  results  no  human  wisdom  can  foresee, 
from  no  other  cause  than  a  vague  and  undefined  fear  that 
slavery  may  be  destroyed  by  the  Government  which  is,  and 
has  been,  its  only  protector.  But  these  are  matters  I  need 
not  discuss  with  you.  I  know  that  you  are  as  fully  alive 
to  the  danger  as  I  am,  and  far  better  informed  as  to  its 
causes.  I  supposed  that  you  wished  to  hear  the  opinions 
of  a  clod-hopper  like  myself,  and  I  have  therefore  ex- 
pressed them  freely." 

I  assured  him  that  I  had  been  alike  interested  and  in- 
structed by  his  remarks,  and  I  entered  a  decided  protest 
against  the  application  of  the  word  "clod-hopper"  to  such 
a  man. 

"I  did  not  need,"  I  continued,  walking  up  to  some  rough 
boards,  in  a  corner,  on  which  his  books  were  arranged,  "I 
did  not  need  this  tell-tale  witness  to  convince  me  that  you 
had  been  accustomed  to  very  different  society  from  that 
which  is  to  be  found  among  these  mountains." 

"You  are  right  in  your  conjecture,"  he  replied.      "I 


18  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

was  once  better  ofif,  in  the  world's  view,  than  I  am  now ;  but 
as  my  story  has  nothing  in  it  which  is  romantic,  criminal, 
mysterious,  or  unaccountably  unfortunate,  I  will  not  bore 
you  with  it.  There  is  your  bed,  sir.  You  must  be  con- 
tent to  share  this  chamber  with  my  grandson  and  myself." 
I  went  to  bed,  but  not  to  sleep.  My  thoughts  were  for 
a  long  time  occupied  with  questions  and  conjectures  con- 
cerning my  host.  How  came  that  educated  and  polished 
gentleman  in  the  garb  of  a  common  laborer?  What  was 
that  clear  and  strong  intellect  doing  in  this  seclusion  ? 
Why  did  he  not  go  out  into  the  world  and  battle  with  his 
kind  for  those  posts  of  honor  which  he  was  so  well  calcu- 
lated to  adorn  ?  His  daughter,  too,  though  strong  and 
healthy,  could  never  have  been  mistaken  for  anything  but 
a  lady,  and  the  household  drudgery  which  she  now  went 
through  with  so  much  ease  and  grace,  must  have  been  in 
former  years  a  deep  mystery  to  her.  But  notwithstanding 
the  great  change  v/hieh  it  was  clear  had  come  over  them, 
the  most  acute  physiognomist  would  have  failed  to  detect 
a  single  line  of  discontent  upon  the  face  of  either  the  father 
or  the  daughter.  I  tried  in  vain  to  find  some  probable 
solution  of  the  enigma.  First  one,  and  then  another  was 
called  up,  examined,  and  dismissed.  In  the  mean  time  the 
effects  Df  the  heavy  supper  I  had  eaten,  and  the  warm  fire 
still  burning  on  the  hearthstone,  began  to  be  felt.  I  knew 
that  my  faculties  were  clouded,  that  I  did  not  have  the 
full  use  of  my  reason,  but  still  I  was  awake,  or  thought  I 
was.  After  awhile  I  saw  a  large  dog  push  open  the  un- 
latched door,  and  coil  himself  down  before  the  fire,  then 
another,  and  then  the  fire  seemed  to  grow  dull  and  indis- 
tinct, and  all  the  various  objects  in  the  room  became  min- 
gled and  jumbled  together.  There  w^as  a  strong  impres- 
sion upon  my  mind  that  I  w^as  not  sleeping,  only  a  little 
drowsy.    How  long  I  remained  in  this  state  I  do  not  know. 


T  O.B  I  A  S    W'l  L  S  0  N.  19 


Suddenly,  as  it  seemed,  the  drowsiness  passed  away.     It 
was  summer.     I  was  standing  upon  a  mountain  side  whose 
summit  the  rising  sun  had  j,ust  begun  to  gild.     There  was 
a  lovely  valley  below  me,  through  which  a  little  stream 
flowed  gently  toward  the  South.     A  cluster  of  log  cabins 
on  one  side  were  the   only  signs  of  human   habitation. 
Stacks  of  oats  and  wheat  were  standing  in  the  field  from 
which  thev  had  been  cut,  and  a  little  farther  off  there  was 
a  field  of  Indian-corn,  which  extended  around  a  spur  of 
the  mountain  that  jutted  into  the  valley,  so  that  the  upper 
part  was  invisible  from  the  place  where  I  stood.     Then  an 
old  man,  followed  by  a  boy  with  a  rifle  on  his  shoulder, 
came  out  of  the  principal  cabin  and  proceeded  to  the 
stable,  from  which  they  soon  emerged,  the  old  man  leading 
a  horse  geared  for  plowing.     The  boy  let  down  the  bars, 
and,  putting  them  up  again  when  his  companion  had  passed 
through,  shouldered  his  rifle  and  turned  up  the  mountain, 
where  he  was  soon  lost  to  view  among  the  thick  under- 
growth which  covered  its  sides.     I  watched  the  old  man  in 
his  progress  to  the  field  until  he  had  turned  the  spur  of  the 
mountain,  and  was  also  lost  to  sight.     For  some  time  after 
his  disappearance  I  remember  nothing.     Then,  by  one  of 
those  changes  common  in  dreams,  I  was  transferred  to  the 
opposite  side  of  the  valley.     It  was  near  noon.     I  could 
now  see  that  part  of  the  corn  field  which  had  been  con- 
cealed by  the  spur  of  the  mountain,  and  the  old  man  I  had 
noticed  in  the  morning  was  busily  plowing  in  the  luxuriant 
corn  which  almost  concealed  both  his  horse  and  himself. 
Not  far  off,  to  the  right  and  behind  him,  three  men  were 
stealthily  creeping  through  the  bushes.     They  were  armed 
with  rifles  and  knives.     Entering  the  corn-field,  they  fol- 
lowed rapidly  along  the  furrow  the  old  man  was  plowing, 
until  near  the  end  of  the  row,  when  two  of  them,  dropping 
their  rifles,  sprang  suddenly  upon  him  and  pinioned  his 


20  '  TOBIAS   WILSON. 

arms  behind  him.  His  face  was  now,  for  the  first  time, 
turned  toward  me,  and  I  recognized  the  features  of  my 
host.  The  next  step  was  to  bind  a  yellow  bandana  hand- 
kerchief over  his  eyes.  This  made  a  stronger  impression 
upon  me,  because  it  was  an  article  of  great  rarity  in  that 
country,  and  because  I  did  not  remember  to  have  seen  it 
used  for  years  by  any  but  members  of  the  Pedo-Baptist 
Church.  He  was  then  hurried  up  a  narrow  gorge,  cut,  for 
the  most  part,  out  of  the  earth  by  torrents  created  by  the 
winter's  rain.  TTithiu  thirty  yards  of  his  own  corn  field 
they  halted,  two  of  them  stepped  back  six  or  seven  paces, 
raised  their  rifles  and  fired.  One  or  both  balls  must  have 
touched  the  heart,  for  he  fell  with  that  peculiar  doubling 
up  of  the  limbs,  that  absence  of  catching  for  support,  which, 
to  a  practiced  eye,  is  an  unerring  indication  that  life  is 
utterly  extinct.  At  this  horrible  sight  I  uttered  a  fearful 
cry  and  sprang  upright  in  my  bed.  My  host  and  his  grand- 
son were  both  upon  their  feet  in  a  moment,  eagerly  in- 
quiring what  was  the  matter.  For  awhile  I  was  so  con- 
fused and  bewildered  that  I  could  give  no  explanation,  but 
at  length  I  made  them  understand  that  it  was  nothing 
more  than  a  bad  dream,  produced,  no  doubt,  by  the  inordi- 
nate supper  I  had  eaten.  Again  we  addressed  ourselves 
to  sleep,  and  again  that  horrid  dream,  without  material 
variation,  haunted  my  pillow.  This  time,  however,  I  did 
not  awaken  my  room-mates,  but  rising,  and  drawing  a  rough 
arm-chair  close  to  the  fire,  prepared  to  pass  the  night  in  a 
sitting  posture.  I  must  have  slept  soundly,  for  when  I 
awoke  it  was  long  after  daylight,  and  Mr.  Johnson  was 
more  than  half  dressed.  The  boy  was  not  in  the  room ;  he 
had  gone  to  look  after  the  horses,  and  I  heard  Mrs.  Wil- 
son making  preparations  for  breakfast  in  the  adjoining 
room.  In  that  primitive  land  no  time  is  wasted  upon  the 
toilet.     Ours  was  soon  concluded,  and,  at  the  suggestion 


TOBIASWILSON.  21 

of  Mr.  Johnson,  we  stepped  out  to  breathe  the  fresh  and 
bracing  air  of  an  October  morning.  The  first  glance  at 
that  lovely  vale,  and  its  magnificent  mountain  inclosures, 
made  every  drop  of  blood  in  my  veins  run  icy  cold.  Itivas 
the  valley  of  my  dream. 

The  reader  will  remember  that  the  shadows  of  night 
shrouded  the  place  when  I  descended  from  the  mountain  on 
the  previous  evening.  I  could  not  catch  even  an  outline 
of  the  landscape,  and  although  I  had  often  traveled  in  that 
neighborhood,  it  so  happened  that  I  had  never  seen  this 
secluded  spot.  I  had  looked  upon  it  for  the  first  time  in  a 
dream.  Yet  there  it  was,  clear,  vivid,  distinct.  All  its 
marked  characteristics  were  burned  in  on  my  memory  as  if 
with  a  brand  of  red-hot  iron.  There  was  the  stream,  the 
spur  of  the  mountain,  the  little  nook  hidden  from  view 
where  we  now  stood,  and  when  I  looked  up  I  again  saw 
the  very  ledge  of  rock  on  which  I  was  standing  when  the 
old  man  came  forth  to  his  daily  labor.  I  shuddered,  and 
perceiving  that  I  was  observed,  muttered  something  about 
the  coolness  of  the  morning,  and  returned  to  the  house. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Neither  at  the  breakfast  table,  nor  before,  ^vas  any  al- 
lusion made  to  the  emotion  which  I  was  sure  had  not  passed 
unobserved.  I  could  not  help  feeling  that  it  must  have 
appeared  very  singular  to  my  host, — but  how  could  it  be 
explained?  Silence  was  the  only  course  to  be  pursued. 
It  was  far  better  to  submit  to  the  suspicion  of  some  extra- 
ordinary weakness  than  run  the  risk  of  wounding  the  feel- 
ings or  darkening  the  anticipations  of  my  kind  entertainer. 
But,  under  the  circumstances,  conversation  was  necessarily 
restrained,  and  almost  immediately  after  the  meal  was  con- 
cluded I  expressed  a  desire  to  resume  my  journey.  Mr. 
Johnson  interposed  no  objection,  only  remarking,  with  win- 
ning politeness,  "I  know  your  engagements,  and  suppose 
you  must  go ;  but  it  is  hard  for  one  situated  as  I  am  to  be 
so  soon  deprived  of  the  most  agreeable  society  he  has  en- 
joyed for  years." 

I  expressed  my  sense  of  the  compliment  he  had  paid  me, 
and  very  soon  afterward  I  bade  adieu  to  Mrs.  Wilson  and 
her  son,  Mr.  Johnson  having  agreed  to  pilot  me  through 
the  narrow  opening  in  the  mountains,  and  over  the  rough 
country  immediately  beyond,  to  the  public  road.  At  that 
point  we  parted  with  mutual  expressions  of  good-will  and 
hopes  of  meeting  again  before  long. 

For  hours  I  could  not  drive  that  dream  from  my  thoughts. 
How  could  that  valley  have  been  so  faithfully  and  distinctly 
painted  in  sleep  when  I  had  never  seen  it,  never  heard  of 
it, — was  in  fact  totally  ignorant  of  its  existence  ?  In  vain 
I  pondered  upon  this  unaccountable  phenomenon.  Once 
(22) 


TOBIAS    WILS  ON.  23 

the  idea  crossed  my  mind  that  although  I  could  not  re- 
member to  have  visited  that  place  before,  I  must  have  done 
so  and  forgotten  it,  and  that  memory  had  at  last  recalled 
it  in  a  dream  ;  but  the  place  was  too  peculiar,  too  remark- 
able, and  my  own  organ  of  locality,  as  the  phrenologists 
term  it,  was  too  well  developed  to  admit  of  this  solution. 
I  ran  over  in  my  mind  all  the  stories  I  had  ever  heard  or 
read  of  strange  and  unaccountable  visions,  and  for  most  of 
them  I  could  find  some  possible  explanation ;  but  here 
there  was  none,  and  I  determined  that  the  best  thing  to  be 
done  was  to  dismiss  it  from  my  thoughts.  It  was  easier, 
however,  to  resolve  upon  this  than  to  perform  it.  Do 
what  I  would,  it  would  come  back  at  the  most  unex- 
pected times,  for  weeks  and  even  for  months.  At  length  I 
related  it  to  a  friend.  He  laughed  at  me,  as  I  expected  he 
would,  but  could  give  no  reason  for  his  avowed  belief  that 
it  was  nothing  more  than  a  common  nightmare.  Those 
were  times,  however,  in  which  real  events  were  beginning 
to  crowd  upon  us,  more  strange  and  fearful  than  any  of  the 
creations  of  fancy,  and  the  memory  of  ray  dream  was 
gradually  fading  away.  The  tide  of  war  had  rolled  south- 
ward. Gen.  A.  S.  Johnston  had  been  driven  from  Bowling 
Green,  through  Nashville,  Huntsville,  and  Tuseumbia,  to 
Corinth,  the  junction  of  the  Mobile  and  Ohio  with  that  of 
the  Memphis  and  Charleston  Railroad.  At  Corinth  he 
sustained  a  defeat  and  lost  his  life.  With  considerable 
skill  and  ability,  Beauregard  had  withdrawn  his  army,  no 
one  knew  exactly  where. 

It  was  at  this  period  of  time  that  I  again  met  Mr.  John- 
son and  his  grandson.  Referring  to  our  conversation  when 
I  was  his  guest  in  the  fall  of  1860,  he  said:  "You  see,  sir, 
I  was  something  of  a  prophet." 

"ISTot  much,"  I  replied.  "The  probable  consequences 
of  the  mad  career  that  some  of  our  friends  and  neighbors 


24  TOBIASWILSON. 

were  then  running  were  too  palpable  to  require  a  prophet's 
ken  to  foretell  tliem." 

"True,"  he  answered.  "And  yet  many  who  are  wiser 
than  I  am,  and  much  more  in  the  habit  of  mingling  with 
the  world,  were  deceived.  Worse  even  than  that,  Ihey  will 
not  profit  by  the  lesson,  which  is  now  before  them,  full  of 
humiliation  and  of  anguish  as  it  is.  They  will  persist  in 
believing  that  the  efforts  of  the  Government  to  re-establish 
its  rightful  supremacy  over  its  own  subjects  are  nothing 
more  nor  less  than  a  brutal  exercise  of  power  and  a  wicked 
invasion  of  their  territory,  for  the  purpose  of  reducing  them 
to  the  condition  of  vassals  or  serfs." 

"I  know  it,"  was  my  response.  "I  know  it.  And  I 
know  too  how  difiQcult  it  will  be  at  such  a  time  to  obtain  a 
hearing  for  the  voice  of  reason.  Still  it  must  be  attempted, 
unless  we  are  content  to  remain  idle  and  inactive,  while 
those  who  love  us,  and  whom  we  love,  are  rushing  madly 
to  destruction." 

"The  effort  must  indeed  be  made,"  he  said  mournfully; 
"but  I  have  dark  forebodings  of  the  result.  I  do  not  de- 
ceive myself  as  to  the  danger.  It  may  be  a  prison,  a  scaf- 
fold, or  murder  without  the  forms  of  trial.  To  all  of  these, 
be  assured  that  every  Union  man  is  liable  wherever  the 
Confederate  Government  has  power,  or  a  secession  popu- 
lation predominates.  I  may  escape.  I  may  find  in  obscu- 
rity an  immunity  which  those  who  are  better  known  can 
hardly  hope  for.     But  danger  threatens  us  all." 

I  told  him  that  his  apprehensions,  though  certainly  not 

groundless,  were   nevertheless    unduly  excited;    that  the 

Anglo-Saxon  was  not  a  blood-thirsty  animal,  and  took  no 

delight  in  taking  away  the  life  of  an  unresisting  enemy. 

France 

"Got  drunk  with  crime  to  vomit  blood  ;" 

but  we  were  of  a  different  race,  and  I  thought  that  those 


T  0  B  I  A  S    W  I  L  S  0  X.  25 

who  remaiDed  peacefully  at  home  need  fear  no  personal 
violence. 

"  Remain  peacefully  at  home  I  "Will  they  let  us  ?  Will 
they  allow  us  to  enjoy  our  own  opinions  ?  Will  they  let  us 
express  those  opinions  by  our  firesides,  or  the  firesides  of 
our  neighbors?  If  they  do  leave  the  old  and  the  infirm 
at  home,  will  they  not  drag  away  the  children  upon  whom 
we  lean  for  support  ?  Will  they  not  rob  us,  and  then  say 
that  we  ought  not  to  complain  because  they  are  fighting 
for  our  rights — our  rights  in  the  Territories,  and  our  rights 
in  slave  property, — rights  which  we  do  not  believe  are  in 
any  danger,  and  for  which,  perhaps,  we  would  not  be  will- 
lug  to  dissolve  the  Union  if  they  were?  Will  they  not  do 
this,  and  more  than  this;  aud  if  we  raise  a  voice  in  remon- 
strance, proclaim  us  as  traitors,  aud  turn  loose  the  off- 
scourings of  their  camps  to  prey  upon  or  murder  us  at 
will?" 

To  these  rapid  and  energetic  questions  I  could  find  no 
answer  satisfactory  to  my  own  mind,  and  contented  myself 
with  replying,  "  I  hope  not  I" 

"Hope  not!  So  would  I  if  I  could,  but  I  can  find  no- 
thing upon  which  to  hang  a  hope !" 

"At  all  events,"  I  said,  "we  can  avoid  much  that  might 
be  both  disagreeable  and  dangerous  by  prudence  and  mod- 
eration. We  must  not  parade  our  opinions  in  places  where 
we  know  they  will  be  offensive,  or  engage  in  acts  of  oppo- 
sition which  will  only  endanger  us  without  promoting  the 
cause  of  the  Union,  or  smoothing  the  pathway  to  peace. 
We  can  wait  until  a  time  comes  when  action  promises  to 
be  useful.  Through  the  bloody  vista  before  us  I  think  I 
can  see  the  dawn  of  a  new  day.  The  old  Union  will  never 
be  restored,  but  a  better  union  will  spring  from  its  ashes. 
War,  like  fire,  is  a  terrible  agent,  but  it  purifies  as  well  as 
destroys,  and  not  unfrequently  burns  out  from  the  body 

8* 


26  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

politic  the  putrefying  sores  and  loathsome  cancers  which 
are  eating  its  life  away.  As  much  as  we  loved  and  gloried 
in  the  old  Union,  it  is  impossible  to  deny  that  some  of 
these  things  were  beginning  to  make  their  appearance  upon 
it,  and  it  may  be  that  this  war  has  been  sent  in  mercy,  not 
in  anger.  It  may  be  that  it  will  so  effectually  remove  all 
cause  of  disagreement  in  the  future  between  the  two  sec- 
tions, that  the  sights  and  sounds  of  fraternal  strife  will 
never  again  be  heard  on  the  North  American  Conti- 
nent." 

"  God  grant  that  it  may  be  so,"  he  fervently  rejoined  ; 
"and  if  my  old  blood  is  needed  as  a  sacrifice  toward  bring- 
ing about  that  glorious  end,  oh,  how  cheerfully  will  it  be 
offered  upon  the  altar  of  my  country  !" 

"I  think,"  he  continued,  "that  I  understand  your  mean- 
ing. You  believe  that  this  war  will  destroy  slavery,  and 
when  it  is  gone  there  will  remain  no  other  cause  sufiBciently 
powerful  to  arm  our  hands  against  each  other's  lives." 

"Yes,  that  is  my  opinion;  but  it  would  not  be  prudent 
to  proclaim  it  from  the  house-tops." 

"No,  indeed  I     The  time  for  doing  that  is  yet  afar  off!" 

It  was  late  before  we  parted  for  the  night,  and  when  we 
did,  the  memory  of  my  strange  dream  came  back  upon  me 
with  startling  power,  and  it  was  long  before  slumber  visited 
my  eyelids. 

The  next  day  he  returned  to  his  home,  and  shortly  after- 
ward the  Union  army,  under  Gren.  Buell,  were  drawn  away 
to  repel  the  invasion  of  Kentucky  by  Gen.  Bragg.  Scat- 
tered troops  of  Confederate  cavalry  were  roaming  through 
the  country,  but  as  yet  they  had  committed  few  outrages, 
and,  indeed,  with  the  exception  of  helping  themselves  to 
whatever  thev  needed,  thev  furnished  the  citizens  with  few 
causes  of  complaint.  But  another  class  of  marauders  were 
gradually  making  their  appearance  under  the  name  of  par- 


T  0  B  I  A  S    W  I  L  S  0  X.  27 

tisan  rangers.  The  worst  materials  in  the  Confederate 
army  were  rapidly  absorbed  in  these  irregular  bands. 
They  were  generally  employed  as  quartermasters'  and  con- 
script ofiBcers'  guards.  There  was  not  even  a  semblance 
of  discipline  among  them.  They  went  where  they  pleased, 
stayed  as  long  as  they  pleased,  and  returned  when  they 
pleased,  living  at  free  quarters  wherever  they  went  and 
committing  whatever  outrages  their  devilish  fancies  might 
suggest.  The  citizens  were,  for  the  most  part,  unarmed, 
except  those  who  were  their  accomplices,  and  often  part- 
ners, in  the  robberies  they  committed.  In  the  spring  of 
1863,  when  Bragg  was  preparing  to  place  the  Tennessee 
River  between  himself  and  the  army  of  Rosecrans,  these 
bands  infested  almost  every  part  of  North  Alabama,  and 
no  citizen  residing  beyond  the  limits  of  a  town  or  village 
could  lay  his  head  upon  his  pillow  with  a  feeling  of  security. 
The  secluded  dell  in  which  Mr.  Johnson  lived  had  been  an 
effectual  protection  against  their  visits,  and  as  he  rarely 
went  from  home  he  had  thus  far  been  unmolested.  But 
one  day,  by  some  untoward  chance,  three  stragglers  found 
their  way  to  his  dwelling.  They  were  hungry,  they  said, 
and  asked  for  something  to  eat  and  a  feed  for  their  horses. 
This  was  promptly  furnished.  While  eating  they  talked 
of  the  war,  of  the  cowardice  and  brutality  of  the  Yan- 
kees, and  boasted  loudly  of  their  own  exploits.  Mr. 
Johnson  was  disgusted,  but  prudently  held  his  tongue. 
When  their  hunger  had  been  appeased,  they  went  to  the 
stable  to  saddle  their  horses.  One  of  them  immediately 
proposed  an  exchange  for  a  fine  gelding  belonging  to  Mr. 
Johnson.  His  own  horse,  he  said,  he  knew  was  a  great 
deal  the  best  animal,  but  his  back  was  badly  hurt,  and  as 
they  had  some  hard  work  before  them  it  would  be  cruel  to 
ride  him  in  that  fix  if  it  could  be  helped.  Mr.  Johnson 
was  satisfied  of  the  excellence  of  the  trooper's  horse,  but 


28  T  0  B  I  A  S    W  I  L  S  0  N.   . 

preferred  to  keep  his  own  for  various  reasons,  one  of  which 
(though  he  did  not  express  it)  was,  that  he  had  heard  the 
doughty  warrior,  within  the  last  half  hour,  boast  that  he 
had  taken  him  from  "a  d — n — d  old  Union  traitor  in 
Tennessee," 

The  unwelcome  visitors  rode  away.  When  out  of  hear- 
ing, as  they  supposed,  a  tall  and  powerful  man  of  not  more 
than  twenty-two  years  of  age,  whose  smooth  and  almost 
beardless  face  contrasted  strongly  with  the  hairy  visages  of 
his  companions,  and  whose  bearing  denoted  some  kind  of 
authority  over  them,  drew  up  his  horse  and  made  a  rapid 
survey  of  the  locality. 

"By  jingo  !"he  exclaimed,  "this'would  be  a  glorious  spot 
for  Captain  Walter's  headquarters,  if  Stanley's  d — n — d 
blue-bellies  ever  get  down  here." 

"Yes,"  answered  one  of  the  men,  "it's  mighty  purty,  but 
in  gineral  I  keeps  an  eye  out  for  safety,  and  I  don't  think 
this  place  would  suit  me  edzactly." 

"  Safety  !  why,  Bob,  that's  just  what  I  was  thinking  about. 
I  was  born  in  seven  mile  of  this  hollow,  and  I  have  knocked 
about  these  mountains  considerable  in  my  time,  and  I  never 
knowed  about  this  place  before.  It  would  take  a  regiment 
of  Yankees  three  months  to  find  it  if  they  didn't  have  no- 
thing else  to  do  but  to  hunt  for  it." 

"I  mought  agree  with  you  in  that,  and  I  don't  know  but 
I  do.  But  just  tell  me,  Sergeant  Miller,  what  is  to  keep 
that  d — n — d  old  rip  up  yonder,"  pointing  to  the  house, 
"from  telling  'em  !" 

"A  pistol-bullet  or  the  end  of  my  horse's  halter  would 
do  that  if  he  showed  any  signs  of  trying  to  make  us  uncom- 
fortable. But  I  don't  think  he  would  if  we  did  not  impose 
upon  him  too  much  !" 

"Well,  sergeant,  for  a  lad  of  your  experience,  and  I  will 
say  cuteness,  too,  you  are  mighty  easy  to  be  fooled.     Or, 


T  0  B  I  A  S    AV  I  L  S  0  X.  29 

may  be,  you  was  watching  that  good-looking  woman  too 
close  to  have  an  eye  on  her  dad.  As  sure  as  gun's  iron,  he's 
a  dead  out  Union  feller ;  and  if  you  want  to  sleep  safe,  don't 
spread  your  blanket  down  in  his  cabin  when  there's  a  com- 
pany of  Yankees  in  ten  mile  of  it !" 

"What  did  you  see.  Bob,  to  make  you  think  so?  I 
never  noticed  anything  amiss.     Did  you,  Tom  Simmons  ?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  individual  thus  addressed,  who  was  a 
coarse,  heavily  built  man,  of  forty  years  or  upwards,  with 
shopk  hair  and  beard,  and  keen  blue  eyes  set  deep  in  his 
head,  which  were  always  alive  with  watchfulness  and  yet 
always  seemed  to  be  in  repose.  It  was  a  common  remark 
among  his  companions,  that,  although  Tom  Simmons  was 
never  known  to  look  a  man  in  the  face,  he  was  never  in  com- 
pany with  any  one  for  five  minutes  every  feature  of  whose 
face  he  could  not  describe  even  to  the  most  minute  peculi- 
aritv.  This  remarkable  facultv  made  him  extremely  useful 
as  a  spy  or  a  scout,  although  his  thieving  and  plundering 
propensities  sometimes  rendered  it  hazardous  to  employ  him, 
since  he  never  failed  to  gratify  these,  no  matter  what  ne- 
glect of  duty  or  what  danger  of  detection  it  involved. 

To  the  question  of  his  officer  he  answered  deliberately. 
"Yes.  I  watched  him  when  Bob  Jenkins  was  bragging 
about  things  there  warnt  no  needcessity  for  telling,  sup- 
posin'  them  to  be  true,  which  all  on  'em  wasn't,  and  if  he 
didn't  think  we  three  ought  to  be  hung  in  short  order,  I'm 
no  judge  of  snakes  1" 

"Ah  !  is  that  so  ?  Well,  the  Yankees  are  not  here  yet, 
and  in  the  mean  time  we  can  make  the  most  of  the  good 
feeding  and  foraging  we  have  found !" 

"And  if  I  don't  capture  that  gray  horse,"  said  Simmons, 
"before  another  week  is  out,  I  shall  consider  myself  in 
d_n— d  bad  luck  !" 

"So  be  it!''  said  Sergeant  Miller;  "but  now  we  must 


30  T  0  B  I  A  S    W  I  L  S  0  N. 

be  traveling.  Trot !  "We  must  get  to  Maysville  to- 
m£?ht!" 

Tobias  Wilson  had  been  hunting  that  morning,  and,  re- 
turning a  little  footsore,  he  had  taken  off  his  shoes  and 
seated  himself  under  a  ledge  of  rocks  to  bathe  his  feet. 
While  engaged  in  this  operation  his  grandfather's  depart- 
ing visitors  had  reined  up  within  ten  feet  of  the  place  where 
he  was  sitting,  and  he  had  listened,  securely  hidden  by  the 
rocks,  to  the  whole  of  the  foregoing  conversation.  As 
soon  as  the  horsemen  were  out  of  sight,  he  ran  to  the  house, 
and  related  what  he  had  heard  to  his  mother  and  grand- 
father. As  the  boy  proceeded  with  his  story,  Mrs.  Wil- 
son's face  became  ashy  pale.  With  her  father  it  was 
different.  At  first  his  features  betrayed  no  unusual  emo- 
tion, but  as  his  grandson  went  on  there  was  a  stern  knitting 
of  his  brow,  and  the  lines  about  his  mouth  grew  deeper 
and  firmer.  For  a  minute  or  more  after  the  story  was  ended, 
not  a  word  was  spoken.  The  silence  was  broken  by  Mr. 
Johnson. 

"I  feared  it  would  come  to  this,  mv  daucchter,  and  I  have 
been  thinking  of  removing  you  to  Nashville.  Tobias  can 
go  with  you,  and  after  you  are  comfortably  situated  he  can 
return  to  me.  We  must  not  leave  the  crop  untended.  I 
have  barely  enough  money  to  support  you  for  a  twelve- 
month, and  no  source  to  look  to  for  a  new  supply  except 
our  growing  crop." 

"I  cannot  leave  you,  father,"  firmly  replied  his  daughter. 
"  If  you  are  in  danger  here,  I  must  share  it.  I  should  feel 
more  uneasiness  when  away  from  you  than  by  your  side  ; 
and  besides,  I  do  not  see  how  you  could  get  on  without 
me.  If  you  and  Tobias  could  do  your  own  cooking  and 
washing,  you  cannot  weave  your  own  cloth,  or  make  and 
mend  your  clothing.  If  you  have  any  apprehensions  for 
my  nerves,  dismiss  them.     I  am  not  a  fine  lady  now,  w^hat- 


T  0  B  I  A  S    W  I  L  S  0  N.  SI 

ever  I  may  have  been,  and  if  the  worst  comes  I  can  mould 
bullets,  as  my  grandmother  did  when  Bean's  Station  was 
attacked  by  the  Indians." 

In  that  family  there  was  no  affectation  of  any  kind. 
What  one  said  the  others  were  persuaded  was  said  in  earn- 
est, and  it  was  rare  that  either  argument  or  remonstrance 
was  resorted  to  for  the  purpose  of  changing  an  opinion 
once  decidedly  expressed,  or  a  resolution  once  taken. 

Mr.  Johnson  did  not  seem  to  be  surprised  at  his  daugh- 
ter's determination,  and  made  no  effort  to  overcome  it. 
After  a  brief  time  given  to  reflection,  he  said : 

"Be  it  as  you  will,  Margaret  I  though  I  had  much  rather 
that  you  left  us.  My  heart  would  be  lighter  if  I  only  knew 
that  you  were  safe  !" 

"Safe,  father!  what  danger  do  I  incur  by  remaining  at 
home  ?  and  who  is  likely  to  injure  me  V 

"You  may  be  safe  from  personal  danger,  my  child,  and  I 
think  you  are  ;  but  you  are  in  danger  of  being  called  on  to 
witness  that  which  will  be  very  painful  to  you.  Yet  even 
that  is  uncertain,  and,  with  God's  blessing,  we  may  escape." 

Bat  little  more  was  said  at  the  time,  and  the  subject  of 
their  conversation  was  not  again  referred  to  until  the  next 
morning  at  the  breakfast  table,  when  Mr.  Johnson  abruptly 
asked  his  grandson  if  his  rifle  was  in  good  order.  Upon 
receiving  an  aflBrmative  reply,  he  continued  :  "I  have  not 
used  mine  lately,  and  it  needs  cleaning  up.  After  break- 
fast, I  wish  you  to  wash  it  out  for  me  and  oil  the  lock.  See, 
too,  that  the  powder  horns  are  filled,  and  that  there  is  a 
good  supply  of  bullets  in  our  pouches." 

When  the  morning  meal  was  finished,  Mr.  Johnson  geared 
his  own  horse  and  went  out  to  the  field,  saying  to  his 
grandson : 

"You  need  not  come  to  the  field  this  morning,  Tobias. 
When  you  have  put  the  guns  in  order  and  moulded  the 


82  TOBIASWILSOX. 

bullets,  you  can  chop  out  the  weeds  and  grass  from  the 
potato  patch.  I  shall  stop  work  at  twelve  o'clock  for  the 
day." 

Mr.  Johnson  conjectured  that  his  dang-erous  visitors 
would  not  return  before  the  succeeding  day,  and  perhaps 
he  might  not  hear  of  them  for  a  much  longer  period,  but 
he  was  certain  that  they  would  come  sooner  or  later,  and  as 
he  could  not  tell  what  time  they  would  select,  he  thought 
it  best  to  be  always  on  his  guard.  The  next  day  passed,  a 
week  went  by,  and  no  footsteps  had  pressed  the  lonely 
glen  except  those  of  its  owner  and  his  little  family.  Mrs. 
Wilson,  with  the  usual  hopefulness  of  woman,  believed  that 
the  danger  had  gone  by,  if,  indeed,  it  ever  existed.  Xot 
so  her  father.  He  knew  it  would  be  just  as  rational  to 
expect  that  the  bloodhound  would  lose  the  scent  within  a 
hundred  yards  of  his  prey,  as  that  these  marauders  would 
fail  to  return  to  a  place  where  they  knew  that  there  was  an 
abundance  of  provision  and  forage  to  be  had,  and  at  least 
one  remarkably  fine  horse  to  be  stolen.  He  had  made  up 
his  mind  that  they  should  not  again  trespass  upon  his  hos- 
pitality, and  that  any  attempt  at  force  should  be  met  by 
determined  resistance. 

Tobias  Wilson  was  well  aware  of  his  grandfather's  feel- 
ings and  intentions,  and  equally  as  determined  that  the  first 
indication  of  violence  should  be  the  signal  for  sending  a 
leaden  messenger  to  the  heart  of  one  of  the  robbers.  The 
years  which  had  passed  since  he  was  first  introduced  to  the 
reader  had  added  to  his  stature,  though  he  was  still  slender 
and  apparently  delicate.  Any  one,  however,  who  calcu- 
lated upon  this  seeming  feebleness  of  body,  would  have  been 
grievously  disappointed.  His  limbs,  though  small,  were 
muscular  and  firmly  knit,  and  they  had  been  hardened  by  that 
kind  of  labor  and  exercise  best  calculated  to  develop  the 
physical  man.     His  grandfather  had  been  celebrated  as  an 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  33 

amateur  wrestler  and  boxer  in  his  youth,  and  believing  that 
these  attainments  might  be  of  service,  and  could  be  no  dis- 
advantage to  a  peaceable  and  well-disposed  youth,  he  had 
not  failed  to  impart  all  his  knowledge  to  his  grandson. 
Added  to  these  physical  advantages,  Tobias  Wilson  carried 
in  his  bosom  the  heart  of  a  lion.  At  the  age  of  twenty-one 
he  could  remember  nothing  he  had  ever  feared  except  the 
half-angry,  half-repro.achful  look  of  his  mother,  when  he 
had  said  or  done  something  which  was  not  in  accordance 
with  her  strict  notions  of  the  conduct  which  best  became  a 
Christian  and  a  gentleman. 

His  grandfather  had  been  his  teacher  in  everything,  but 
he  was  so  gentle  and  so  indulgent  in  his  own  family,  and 
his  reproof  was  always  so  mild,  that  the  idea  of  punish- 
ment, as  connected  with  it,  had  never  found  a  place  in  the 
young  man's  breast.  He  was  almost  as  ignorant  now  as  he 
was  when  a  child,  of  the  deep  and  concentrated  passions 
which,  in  other  years,  had  struggled  lon^  and  fearfully  with 
the  better  nature  of  his  parent,  and  which  were  still  so  far 
unsubdued  that  they  were  at  any  time  liable,  under  great 
provocation,  to  break  out  with  the  sudden  and  destructive 
violence  of  a  West  Indian  tornado.  But  of  this  the  boy, 
as  both  mother  and  grandfather  called  him,  was  ignorant. 
He  felt  a  little  awed,  as  no  one  of  his  age  could  help  feel- 
ing, in  presence  of  that  strong  and  decided  nature,  but  that 
awe  was  unmingled  with  fear.  A  new  leaf  ^^^as  now 
opened  for  his  perusal.  A  stern  and  relentless  purpose 
had  settled  in  the  old  man's  bosom,  and  the  evidences  of 
it  could  not  be  entirely  suppressed,  either  in  the  tones  of 
his  voice  or  his  general  demeanor.  Tobias  Wilson  ob- 
served the  change,  but  as  he  felt  well  assured  that  it  boded 
no  opposition  to  his  own  resolves,  he  made  no  comment 
and  asked  no  questions. 

4 


CHAPTER  III. 

Nearly  two  weeks  had  passed.  Mr.  Johnson  was  stand- 
ing in  the  passage  of  his  house  just  after  the  mid-day  meal, 
when  he  observed  three  men  riding  up  the  bank  of  the 
iittle  stream,  of  whose  identity  he  had  no  manner  of  doubt. 
They  were  yet  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant,  and 
as  his  plan  of  proceeding  had  long  since  been  fully  decided 
upon,  there  was  ample  time  to  make  the  few  preparations 
which  he  deemed  advisable.  Locking  the  doors  and  barr- 
ing the  windows  of  the  room  in  which  he  was  accustomed 
to  sleep,  he  went  with  his  grandson  into  the  room  occupied 
by  his  daughter.  This  room  was  then  carefully  secured 
inside,  loop-holes  had  already  been  made  by  removing,  in 
places,  the  "chinking  and  daubin'"  from  betw^een  the  logs 
of  the  cabin.  Their  rifles  were  taken  down  and  exam- 
ined; their  bullet-pouches  and  hunting-knives  slung  over 
their  shoulders,  and  then  Mr.  Johnson  placed  himself  at 
the  little  square  opening  dignified  with  the  name  of  window, 
while  Tobias  seated  himself  on  the  floor,  his  rifle  resting 
in  one  of  the  loop-holes  which  commanded  the  approach 
to  the  stable.  Everything  had  been  arranged  beforehand, 
and  their  dispositions  were  made  with  a  quiet  celerity  not 
in  the  least  resembling  nervous  hurry,  but  which,  neverthe- 
less, precluded  conversation  while  it  was  progressing. 

When  the  riders  stopped  at  the  bars  through  which  ad- 
mission to  the  yard  was  obtained,  the  closed  doors  and  the 
stillness  within  and  about  the  cabin  led  them  to  believe 
that  it  was  untenanted. 
(34) 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  35 

"Hello !"  shouted  the  sergeant. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?"  was  the  answer  from  the  window. 

"Something  to  eat  for  man  and  horse;  we  have  had  a 
hard  ride  to-day,  and  we  are  tired  and  hungry  I" 

"  You  will  have  to  ride  still  farther,  for  you  can  get  no- 
thing here." 

"We'll  see  about  that  I"  answered  the  sergeant,  delib- 
erately dismounting  from  his  horse  and  tying  him  to  the 
fence.  "I  suspected  you  of  being  a  d — n — d  old  traitor 
before,  and  I  know  it  now  I" 

"  I  give  you  fair  warning,"  said  Mr.  Johnson,  in  a  raised 
and  angry  tone,  "if  you  cross  that  fence  with  a  hostile  pur- 
pose, you  are  a  dead  man !" 

The  freebooter  had  the  reputation  of  being  a  bold  and 
daring  man,  but  as  he  had  no  inclination  to  throw  his 
life  awav,  the  tones  of  the  voice  that  now  addressed  him 
were  sufficiently  determined  to  make  him  hesitate.  His 
companions  had  also  dismounted.  Taking  the  precaution 
to  keep  their  horses  between  them  and  the  cabin,  they  held 
a  brief,  whispered  consultation  with  each  other. 

"He's  got  help  in  thar,"  said  Tom  Simmons,  "or  he 
wouldn't  talk  so  big;  but  it  can't  be  no  great  deal,  or  he 
wouldn't  lock  up  and  fortyfy  hisself.  Let's  divide ;  if  he's 
got  friends  in  thar  we'll  find  it  out,  and  then  there's  no- 
thin'  for  it  but  to  leave  and  wait  until  some  night  when  we 
catch  him  asleep  !" 

This  plan  was  at  once  adopted,  and  while  Sergeant  Mil- 
ler remained  in  front,  sheltered  by  the  fence  and  the  horses, 
the  other  two  made  a  circuit  and  approached  the  cabin 
from  different  sides.  On  his  side  Bob  Jenkins  met  no  op- 
position :  Tom  Simmons  had  gained  the  rear  of  the  stable, 
as  he  supposed  without  attracting  observation ;  but  as  he 
came  around  in  front,  within  twenty  yards  of  the  house,  a 
sharp  voice  commanded  him  to  "  halt !"     The  redoubtable 


36  TOBIASWILSON. 

Tom  was  a  little  startled  at  first,  for  this  was  not  the  voice 
of  the  man  who  held  the  brief  colloquy  with  his  sergeant, 
and  it  verified  his  suspicion  that  the  old  man  was  not  alone. 
He  detected  the  loop-hole,  and  saw  at  a  glance  that  he 
could,  by  a  quick  movement,  easily  avoid  that  danger,  but 
he  did  not  know  what  he  would  encounter  On  the  other  side, 
and  thought  it  best  to  come  to  a  parley. 
.  "  Well,  I  am  halted  !     What'll  you  have  ?" 

''That,  sir,  is  what  I  wish  to  know  of  you !" 

''  Haven't  we  told  you  we  were  tired  and  hungry,  and 
wanted  something  to  eat  ?" 

"Yes,  and  you  were  told  that  you  could  get  nothing 
here ;  and  now,  sir,  if  you  have  any  regard  for  your 
safety,  you  had  better  be  off  I" 

"Ef  I  could  only  git  you  out'n  that  cabin,  my  chap,  its 
more'u  likely  you'd  be  thinking  on  your  own  safety;  and 
may  be  I'll  have  a  chance  yet  to  larn  you  how  to  treat  sol- 
diers who  are  fighting  to  save  your  truck  from  the  d — n — d 
Yankees  who  are  rampaging  over  these  here  mountains 
this  very  day." 

"  When  we  want  your  help  against  the  Yankees  we  will 
let  you  know  it ;  but  until  then  we  do  not  intend  to  be  plun- 
dered and  robbed  by  every " 

Tobias  Wilson's  speech  was  cut  suddenly  short,  for  Tom 
Simmons,  who  had  been  gradually  and  almost  impercepti- 
bly moving  toward  the  door  of  the  stable,  now  sprang  sud- 
denly within  it,  and,  resting  his  revolver  in  a  crack  between 
the  logs,  fired  with  a  quick  but  certain  aim  at  the  loop-hole 
through  which  the  foregoing  conversation  had  been  carried 
on.  Tobias  Wilson  saw  the  motion,  and  at  once  divining 
what  it  meant,  fell  with  his  face  to  the  floor.  It  was  well 
for  him  that  he  did  so.  The  delay  of  an  instant  would  have 
been  fatal  to  him,  for  the  ball  passed  directly  through  the 
loop-hole  and  buried  itself  in  the  logs  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  room. 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  37 

While  the  foregoing  conversation  was  progressing,  Ser- 
geant Miller  had  led  away  the  horses  of  the  party,  and  se- 
cured them  under  the  steep  bank  of  the  stream.  Mr.  John- 
son might,  have  interfered  very  eifectually  with  this  pro- 
ceeding, but  he  was  determined  to  act  only  in  self-defense, 
and  shrank  from  firing  the  first  shot.  When  the  attempt 
upon  the  life  of  his  grandson  was  made,  it  was  too  late ; 
Sergeant  Miller  was  safe,  and  Jenkins,  by  making  a  wide 
detour,  was  able  to  rejoin  him  without  risk. 

Both  of  them  now  unslung  their  carbines,  and,  availing 
themselves  of  every  sheltering  object,  again  cautiously  ap- 
proached the  house.     On  his  side  Tom  Simmons  was  in 
doubt  whether  the  silence  which  followed  his  shot  was  the 
stillness  of  death,  or  whether  his  intended  victim  was  watch- 
ing an  opportunity  to  return  it.     Acting  upon  a  sudden 
impulse,  he  had  brought  matters  to  a  point  where  no  com- 
promise was  possible,  and  nothing  more  remained  to  be 
done  but  to  take  the  cabin  by  storm,  or  retreat.    He  might 
set  fire  to  the  cabin  and  shoot  down  the  inmates  as  they 
were  driven  out  by  the  flames,  but  that  did  not  suit  his  own 
views  or  the  views  of  his  comrades,  since  it  involved  the 
destruction  of  the  booty  they  designed  appropriating  to 
themselves.     While  thus  cogitating,  his  eye  rested  on  the 
gray  steed  he  so  much  coveted. 

"Well,  my  beauty,"  he  said,  walking  up  to  the  horse  and 
patting  him  on  the  neck,  "I'll  make  sure  on  you  this  time, 
and  when  I  come  agin,  we'll  try  for  the  rest !"  So  saying, 
he  took  down  a  plow  bridle,  the  only  one  in  the  stable,  and 
put  it  on  the  noble  animal.  In  his  approach  he  had  "let 
down  "  the  fence  at  the  back  of  the  stable,  and  there  was 
now  no  obstruction  between  him  and  the  wood  which 
skirted  the  mountain.  Mounting  the  horse,  and  lying  flat 
on  his  neck,  he  rode  through  the  door',  turned  the  horse's 

head  toward  the  mountain,  and  put  him  at  once  almost  to 

4* 


38  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

the  top  of  his  speed.  But  Mr.  Simmons's  motions  had  been 
watched  by  an  eye  as  keen  and  vigilant  as  that  of  the  lynx. 
The  horse  had  not  made  twenty  bounds  when  the  sharp 
crack  of  a  rifle  reverberated  along  the  mountain  sides. 
The  lawless  freebooter,  who,  as  he  sped  away,  had  raised 
himself  to  a  half-sitting  posture,  now  rose  straight  up;  in 
a  moment  his  head  dropped  upon  his  breast,  his  hand  re- 
linquished its  hold  upon  the  rein,  and  he  fell  heavily  to  the 
ground.  The  horse  made  a  few  more  leaps  forward,  until 
finding  itself  unrestrained,  it  turned  rapidly  toward  the 
stable. 

Miller  and  Jenkins  were  in  full  view  of  Simmons  when  he 
fell,  and  did  not  for  an  instant  doubt  that  he  had  received 
his  death  wound.  They  were  too  familiar  with  such  scenes- 
to  entertain  a  hope  that  he  would  ever  join  in  another  ma- 
rauding expedition.  The  number  of  assailants  and  de- 
fenders were  now  equal,  and  with  the  advantage  possessed 
by  the  latter,  the  robbers  despaired  of  a  successful  termina- 
tion of  their  enterprise.  A  retreat  was  inevitable.  This 
was  easv ;  but  it  involved  the  abandonment  of  their  com- 
rade,  which  they  were  not  willing  to  do,  partly,  let  us  sup- 
pose, from  a  touch  of  human  feeling  still  lingering  in  their 
bosoms,  but  chiefly  because  his  arms  and  accoutrements 
were  valuable,  even  if  he  had  nothing  else  about  his  person, 
and  they  felt  accordingly  no  disposition  to  let  them  fall  into 
the  hands  of  the  victors.  After  some  delay,  Sergeant  Mil- 
ler called  out  to  Mr.  Johnson  : 

"You  have  murdered  a  Confederate  soldier  rather  than 
give  us  a  meal's  victuals,  and  the  consequences  must  be 
upon  your  own  head.  Do  you  mean  to  let  us  carry  him 
away  peaceably,  or  must  we  burn  your  infernal  den  and 
bury  him  by  its  light  ?" 

"You  can  do  what  you  please,"  was  the  answer,  "out- 
side of  ray  yard ;  but  if  you  cross  my  fence,  or  lay  a  finger 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  39 

on  my  property  within  rifle  range,  I  shall  serve  you  as  he 
has  been  served.  Take  him  away  as  soon  as  you  can.  I 
hope  he  is  not  dead,  but  he  deserved  it  if  he  is.  I  give 
you  half  an  hour  to  carry  him  off!" 

Miller  and  Jenkins  promptly  availed  themselves  of  the 
privilege  accorded  them,  and  in  less  than  half  the  time 
mentioned  were  on  their  way  down  the  little  stream  with 
the  dead  body  of  Simmons  lashed  to  his  horse. 

That  night  her  father  again  addressed  Mrs.  Wilson. 

"It  is  certain,  my  daughter,  that  you  cannot  now  remain 
here  in  security.  There  is  no  telling  at  what  hour  of  the 
day  or  the  night  we  may  have  a  band  of  robbers  upon  us. 
Tobias  and  I  may  escape  to  the  mountain,  but  you  will  cer- 
tainly be  subject  to  insult,  and  it  may  be  to  worse  things. 
You  had  better  prepare  to  go  to  Nashville  to-morrow." 

"I  shall  stay  with  you,  father,  be  the  consequences  what 
they  may.  I  will  not  deny  that  I  am  a  little  frightened  at 
what  may  follow  from  this  sad  day's  work,  but  I  will  stay, 
nevertheless,  and  hope  to  be  of  service  rather  than  an  in- 
cumbrance." 

For  several  days  Mr.  Johnson  and  his  grandson  carried 
their  rifles  to  the  field,  and  one  of  them  watched  while  the 
other  worked.  A  neighbor,  so  called  in  that  wild  region, 
though  his  house  was  some  seven  miles  distant,  had  been  on 
a  visit  to  Huntsville,  and  on  his  return,  finding  that  he  could 
not  reach  his  own  house  before  nightfall,  took  "the  short 
cut "  through  the  valley  and  over  the  mountain  by  Mr. 
Johnson's  house.  It  was  not  much  past  seven  o'clock,  but  the 
darkness  of  night  had  settled  upon  that  secluded  spot,  and 
not  liking  to  undertake  a  journey  across  the  mountain  at  such 
an  hour,  he  called  to  ask  a  lodging  for  the  night.  From 
him  Mr.  Johnson  learned  for  the  first  time  the  story  which 
had  been  spread  abroad  in  relation  to  the  death  of  Sim- 
mons.    It  was  said  that  he,  Simmons,  had  called  in  a  peace- 


40  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

able  and  orderly  manner  with  his  comrades,  to  obtain  some 
refreshment,  after  a  hard  day's  scouting,  and  had  been 
shot  down  in  cold  blood  by  some  one  inside  of  the  cabin. 
He  farther  learned  that  the  neighbors  had  been  only  de- 
terred from  executing  Lynch's  law  upon  the  inhabitants  of 
the  little  valley  by  the  presence  of  Union  cavalry  in  that 
vicinity.  Mr.  Johnson  was  advised  by  his  neighbor,  who 
happened  to  be  a  strong  friend  of  the  Union,  to  change  his 
residence  at  once,  and  was  offered  shelter  in  his  house, 
which  he  thought  more  secure  from  the  fact  of  being  in  a 
thickly  settled  country. 

"I  thank  you,  Mr.  Rogers,"  was  the  reply,  "both  for 
the  information  you  have  given  me  and  for  your  kind  offer. 
And  I  beg  tlaat  you  will  not  consider  it  uncourteous  if  I 
do  not  accept  it.  This  house  is  mine.  "When  the  great 
secession  orator,  Mr.  Yancey,  traveled  through  this  country, 
he  told  us  that  every  cabin  was  a  castle,  from  which  we  had 
a  right  to  expel  any  intruding  foot.  It  was  about  the  only 
thing  in  his  speech  with  which  I  agreed,  and  I  am  resolved 
to  put  it  to  the  test.  I  shall  harm  no  one  except  in  my 
own  just  defense  ;  but  here  I  shall  stay,  at  least  until  my 
crop  is  gathered,  and  those  who  interfere  with  me  must 
take  the  consequences.  I  shall  be  very  grateful,  however, 
if  you  can  persuade  my  daughter  to  go  with  you." 

"I  will  try,  Mr.  Johnson.  And  I  tell  you  further,  that 
there  is  a  plan  on  foot  to  arm  the  Union  citizens  for  their 
own  defense.  I  saw  Gen.  S.  yesterday.  He  will  supply 
us  with  arms,  and  we  can  then  protect  ourselves  against 
such  roving  parties  as  have  visited  you,  even  when  aided, 
as  they  are,  and  will  be,  by  some  of  the  worst  of  our  neigh- 
bors." 

At  this  point  Tobias  Wilson  for  the  first  time  joined  in 
the  conversation.  It  was  his  custom  to  listen  in  grave  and 
respectful  silence  to  the  utterances  of  his  grandfather;  but 


TOBIAS    WILS  ON.  41 

he  could  not  restrain  himself  when  he  heard  that  arms 
would  be  furnished  to  such  Union  citizens  as  would  use 
them  in  their  own  and  the  country's  defense. 

"  Tell  General  S.,"  he  said,  "  that  if  he  will  give  us  guns, 
and  powder,  and  ball,  a  thousand  lojal  hearts  will  thank 
him,  and  a  thousand  loyal  hands  will  be  found  ready  to  use 
them." 

"I  shall  do  so,"  was  the  reply  of  Mr.  Rogers.  "But  he 
will  be  in  this  neighborhood  in  two  weeks,  and  you  can  see 
him  yourself.  That  is,  if  you  will  go  with  me  to  a  place 
of  greater  safety.  If  you  remain  here,  I  do  not  think  that 
your  grandfather  or  yourself  will  be  among  the  living  this 
day  fortnight." 

"It  may  be  so,"  answered  Mr.  Johnson,  again  taking  up 
the  conversation.  "God  only  can  foreknow  the  future; 
but  I  will  not  leave  my  house  to  be  burned,  and  my  crops 
destroyed,  by  a  band  of  thieves  and  robbers,  who  desecrate 
the  name  of  my  country  by  calling  themselves  its  defenders. 
I  will  perish  upon  my  own  doorsill  before  even  the  pittance 
I  am  able  and  willing  to  give  in  charity,  shall  be  wrested 
from  me  by  violence,  or  extorted  from  me  by  threats." 

"You  are  right,  Mr.  Johnson,  in  one  sense,  but  wrong 
in  another.  Perhaps  two  others,  for  there  are  two  views^ 
of  this  matter  which  do  not  seem  to  have  struck  you.  The 
first  is,  that  probably  no  open  attack  will  be  made  upon 
you.  Your  house  may  be  fired  at  night,  and  you  may  be 
murdered  while  trying  to  escape  from  the  flames.  You 
may  be  shot  down  while  at  work  in  your  field,  or  disposed 
of  in  many  other  ways,  without  a  chance  oi  resistance.  On 
my  honor,  I  believe  you  to  be  in  great  danger  of  some  such 
fate  every  hour  that  you  abide  in  this  out-of-the-way  place, 
where  murder  is  so  easy  of  accomplishment,  and  detection 
of  the  criminal  so  difiicult.  The  other  view  is,  that  even 
if  openly  attacked,  you  may,  in  your  defense,  destroy  the 


42  TOBIAS    TVILSON. 

life  of  some  one  who  is  guilty  of  being  found  in  bad  com- 
pany certainly,  but  in  reality  innocent  of  any  intention  to 
commit  robbery,  or  shed  blood,  except  under  circumstances 
which  in  his  view  of  the  law  would  justify  the  act." 

"I  understand  your  first  suggestion,"  replied  Mr.  John- 
sou,  "and  admit  its  force.  My  resolution  was  taken  after 
long  and  anxious  thought,  and  this  was  a  contingency  too 
palpable  to  be  overlooked.  I  know  that  it  is  one  which 
cannot  be  effectually  guarded  against,  supposing  your 
enemy  to  be  wily  and  determined ;  but  I  calculate  some- 
what upon  my  own  and  my  grandson's  vigilance,  and  the 
watchfulness  of  our  dogs,  and  still  more  upon  the  over- 
confidence  of  those  who  may  be  disposed  to  do  us  an  in- 
jury. Your  second  suggestion  I  do  not  think  I  clearly 
understand.  I  have  never  thought  of  taking  the  life  of 
any  one  who  does  not  come  here  with  a  robber's  or  a  mur- 
derer's purpose;  and  do  not  see  how  I  can  incur  the  risk 
of  shedding  innocent  blood. '^ 

"  I  did  not  say  innocent  blood,"  was  the  rejoinder.  "  My 
remark  was  comparative.  I  neither  say,  nor  believe,  that 
any  innocent  man  will  come  here  upon  an  errand  of 
violence.  But  comparatively  good  men  may  be  deceived 
by  false  representations.  We  know  not  a  few  who  loere 
honest  and  kind-hearted  in  other  days,  but  who  are  the 
companions  of  robbers  and  murderers.  They  have  not 
lost  their  horror  of  the  crime, — they  are  only  blinded  to 
the  brutality  of  the  criminals,  because  those  criminals  are 
called  Southern  -patriots.  Such  men  may  be  reclaimed : 
nay,  more,  many  of  them  have  been  reclaimed,  and  the 
scales  are  daily  falling  from  the  eyes  of  others." 

"God  speed  the  good  work,"  said  the  old  man,  fervently. 
"No  one  shall  be  more  ready  than  I  to  aid  and  encourage 
them  to  the  extent  of  my  poor  means.  But,"^  he  added 
more  sternly,  "they  must  give  evidence  of  repentance  be- 


TOBIAS    WILS  ox.  48 

fore  they  can  expect  to  be  separated  from  the  bloody  crew 
with  whom  their  lot  has  been  voluntarily  cast.  When  they 
become  good  citizens  I  will  extend  to  them  the  right  hand 
of  fellowship.  Until  then,  I  cannot  allow  them  to  inflict 
injury  upon  me  or  mine  with  impunity,  because  I  have 
hopes  of  their  future  repentance.  If  they  come  here  it  can 
be  for  no  good,  and  I  shall  make  no  distinction  between 
visitors  whose  errand  is  the  same." 

"  Nor  would  I  have  you  to  do  so,  and  I  must  have  ex- 
pressed myself  poorly  to  be  so  understood.  What  I  mean  to 
argue  is,  that  by  getting  out  of  the  way  for  the  time,  you 
may  be  spared  the  necessity  of  a  mortal  contest  with  men 
who,  I  believe,  will  before  long  discard  their  errors,  and 
become  valuable  auxiliaries  in  the  cause  of  right  and  of 
liberty.     I  do  not  ask  you  to  spare,  but  to  avoid  them."* 

"  And  that,  unfortunately,  is  just  what  I  cannot  do.  If 
I  leave  here,  my  crop  goes  to  waste,  even  if  no  strolling 
vagabond  should  take  a  fancy  to  appropriate  it  to  himself. 
Everything  I  have  exclusive  of  my  crop  would  not  support 
my  daughter  and  myself  for  more  than  a  twelvemonth ;  so 
you  see,  Mr.  Rogers,  I  must  stay  or  starve.  Take  my 
daughter  with  you,  and  I  shall  be  very  grateful ;  as  for 
Tobias  and  myself,  I  believe  we  are  of  one  mind,  and  that 
is,  to  brave  the  worst." 

The  kind-hearted  Rogers  went  into  the  opposite  room, 
and  with  some  difficulty  persuaded  Mrs.  Wilson  to  take  up 
her  abode  for  some  time  at  his  house.  She  would  not  be 
far  removed  from  her  father  and  her  son,  and  she  reasoned, 
rightly,  that  they  would  feel  more  at  ease,  and  be  more  at  • 
liberty  to  concert  measures  for  their  security,  when  they 
knew  that  she  was  beyond  the  reach  of  immediate  danger. 

And  so  the  next  morning,  Mr.   Rogers  departed  with 
Mrs.  Wilson  in  his  company, — a  single  horse,  besides  the 


44  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

one  she  rode,  being  sufficient  to  "pack"  her  small  wardrobe 
over  the  precipitous  path  they  must  needs  traverse. 

Another  week  had  been  added  to  the  cycle  of  the  year. 
The  warning  they  had  received  had  not  been  neglected. 
Everything  had  been  done,  which  could  be,  to  guard  against 
surprise,  and,  in  case  of  overpowering  necessity,  to  secure 
a  safe  retreat.  Resistance  to  the  death  was  the  fixed  and 
unalterable  purpose  of  both  the  old  man  and  the  young; 
but  neither  of  them  had  any  intention  of  throwing  away 
their  lives  in  a  useless  struggle.  They  had  accordingly 
discussed  and  agreed  on  a  place  of  safe  retreat  in  the 
mountains,  in  the  event  of  being  assailed  by  overwhelming 
numbers.  In  the  mean  time,  they  watched  and  worked  by 
turns  in  the  daytime,  and  watched  and  slept  by  turns  at 
night.  Their  immunity  thus  far  did  not  at  all  abate  their 
vigilance,  and  they  allowed  nothing  to  separate  them  until 
their  stock  of  meal  was  exhausted,  and  it  was  necessary 
that  it  should  be  replenished. 

Early  on  a  bright  summer  morning  in  July,  1863,  Tobias 
Wilson  set  out  for  the  mill,  some  six  miles  distant,  with  a 
bag  of  corn  under  him  and  his  rifle  across  his  knees.  It 
was  long  past  noon  when  he  returned.  Riding  up  to  the 
cabin,  he  found  the  doors  fastened  as  they  were  that 
morning  when  he  left  home  for  the  mill,  after  his  grand- 
father had  gone  to  the  field.  Looking  under  a  slab  of 
wood  where  it  was  their  habit  to  leave  the  key,  since  his 
mother  had  taken  up  her  residence  with  Mr.  Rogers,  he 
found  it  where  he  had  placed  it  in  the  morning.  The 
doors  were  locked  as  usual,  and  nothing  about  the  place 
indicated  that  it  had  been  visited  since  morning.  A  vague 
feeling  of  apprehension  crept  over  him.  He  went  to  the 
stable;  his  grandfather's  horse  was  not  there,  nor  were 
there  any  indications  that  the  stable  had  been  entered  by 
any  one  during  the  day.     The  dogs  came  whining  and  leap- 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  45 

ing  for  joy  around  him.  The  barn-yard  fowls  were  scratch- 
ing in  the  dirt,  and  a  couple  of  calves  were  munching  at  a 
stack  of  fodder.  "Something  is  wrong,"  he  murmured. 
"Grandfather  has  not  been  home  to  dinner.  Where  can 
he  have  gone  and  what  has  taken  him  away  ?" 

Then  a  fearful  suspicion  crossed  his  mind.  "My  God! 
can  he  be  murdered  ?"  After  a  moment's  thought,  he  shook 
off  this  impression.  "No,"  he  said,  "no;  in  that  case 
they  would  have  robbed  the  house,  and  probably  burned  it. 
No;  I  don't  think  they  have  killed  him,  but  may  be  they 
have  captured  and  taken  him  off.     I  mus^t  see." 

So  saying,  he  started  to  the  field  which  he  knew  his 
grandfather  intended  that  morning  to  plow.  As  he 
walked  on  through  the  springing  corn  and  across  the 
"turning  rows,"  the  stillness  which  everywhere  reigned 
had  its  influence  upon  his  spirits.  "God  preserve  me,"  he 
murmured,  "from  this  trial!  I  promised  my  mother  that 
I  would  always  try  to  be  gentle  and  good.  I  have  tried 
to  keep  that  promise.  When  I  went  to  the  'Musters,' 
and  other  boys  called  me  'Miss  Nancy,'  I  have  turned 
away  without  touching  them,  although  I  knew  I  could  break 
every  bone  in  their  bodies.  I  have  borne  this,  and  I  can 
bear  more ;  but  if  I  find  that  old  man's  white  hairs  stained 
with  blood,  may  God  forsake  me  if  I  do  not  pay  back  every 
drop  with  tenfold  interest." 

After  turning  the  spur  of  the  mountain,  he  had  not 
walked  fifty  yards  before  he  saw  his  grandfather's  horse, 
with  the  gear  on  him,  and  still  attached  to  the  plow, 
lazily  feeding  upon  the  growing  corn.  To  the  young  man 
this  was  a  painful  indication  that  the  animal  had  been  long 
at  liberty.  It  would  not  have  been  grazing  so  leisurely 
if  its  appetite  had  not  been  nearly  appeased.  Passing  by 
the  unconscious  beast,  he  walked  on,  following  the  direc- 
tion of  the  latest   plowed   furrow.     Before  he  had  pro- 

5 


46  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

ceeded  many  steps,  it  came  abruptly  to  an  end.  There 
were  the  marks  of  a  struggle,  and  the  indentation  of  many 
feet  in  the  newly  turned  up  ground.  There  were  also  un- 
mistakable indications  that  the  horse,  neglected  or  for- 
gotten in  the  struggle,  had  turned  about  and  afterward 
roved  at  will  over  the  field,  dragging  the  plow  after  him. 
The  footprints  led  toward  a  gorge  in  the  mountains,  and 
there,  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  spot  where  the  struggle 
had  taken  place,  and  just  beyond  the  field,  he  found  the 
body  of  his  grandfather.  Two  rifle  balls  had  passed 
through  his  body,  either  one  of  which  would  have  been 
fatal.  There  he  lay,  still  warm,  and  the  expression  of  his 
face  varying  but  little  from  that  he  wore  in  life,  in  his 
serious  moods.  For  many  minutes  the  young  man  scarcely 
moved,  but  gazed  in  speechless  agony  upon  all  that  re- 
mained of  what  he  had  most  reverenced  in  the  world. 
Then  he  stooped  and  kissed  the  corpse.  He  did  not  feel 
the  pulse.  He  did  not  put  his  hand  on  the  bloody  breast 
to  see  if  the  heart  still  beat.  He  knew  instinctively  that 
naught  but  a  dead  body  yvas  lying  before  him.  Slowly  he 
went  back,  unharnessed  the  horse,  led  him  to  the  spot 
where  the  corpse  was  lying,  and  with  the  plow  line  tied 
it  fast  upon  his  back.  Then  carefully  but  moodily  he  led 
the  animal  to  the  now  desolate  cabin.  Arriving  there,  he 
lifted  the  body  from  the  horse,  and  laid  it  gently  upon  its 
accustomed  bed.  Going  out  again,  he  put  his  own  horse 
and  that  of  his  grandfather  in  the  stable,  and  fed  them  well. 
He  had  eaten  nothing  himself  during  the  day,  and  finding 
no  cold  meats  in  his  mother's  "cupboard,"  he  broiled  some 
ham  and  baked  a  "hoe  cake."  After  this  frugal  meal  was 
concluded,  he  called  his  dogs  into  the  house,  barred  the 
door,  and  placing  his  own  and  his  grandfather's  rifle 
(which  he  had  picked  up  on  his  way  home)  near  the  head 
of  his  bed,  prepared  to  pass  the  night  alone  with  the  dead. 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  47 


What  were  his  thoughts  during  that  night  of  horror? 
No  one  ever  knew.  When  I  saw  him  afterward,  he  told 
me  many  things,  but  nothing  of  that  night's  vigils,  slum- 
bers, resolves,  or  struggles.  I  could  only  guess  from  what 
followed,  that  during  that  night  of  companionship  with  his 
grandfather's  corps,  a  stern,  relentless,  merciless  purpose 
settled  upon  his  heart,  whose  appropriate  fruits  were  blood 
and  tears. 


CHAPTER  ly. 

The  next  day,  leaving  the  dead  body  in  the  cabin,  he 
mounted  his  horse,  and  rode  across  the  mountain  to  the 
house  of  Mr.  Rogers,  where  his  mother  was  now  residing. 
He  seized  her  hand  when  they  met,  and  almost  crushed  it 
in  his  nervous  grasp.  "Mother,"  he  said  briefly,  sternly, 
and  without  a  word  of  preparation,  "grandpa  is  dead." 
For  a  minute  or  more  his  mother  sunk  under  the  terrible 
announcement.  Her  first  exclamation  was,  "  Oh,  my  poor 
father!"  A  flood  of  tears  gushed  from  her  eyes,  and  her 
almost  Amazonian  form  drooped  and  shrunk  as  if  the  winds 
of  winter  had  swept  over  the  lily  in  its  bloom.  Then  she 
murmured,  "Dead  !  dead,  my  son  !     How  did  he  die?" 

"He  was  murdered;  murdered  by  assassins." 
^  "Murdered  by  assassins  !"  she  answered  fiercely.  "Mur- 
dered !  and  you  with  him  when  the  deed  was  done,  and 
you  are  now  here  to  tell  it !  My  God !  can  it  be  that  a 
son  of  mine  stood  by  and  saw  those  gray  hairs  dabbled  in 
blood,  and  yet  lived  to  tell  the  tale  ?" 

"I  was  not  by  him,  mother,  I  was  no  witness  to  the 
bloody  deed,  but  I  know  it  was  murder.  And,  oh !  mo- 
ther," he  continued,  striking  his  hand  upon  his  breast,  "if 
you  knew  the  hell  that  is  burning  here,  you  would  tremble 
for  the  consequences  which  may  follow  the  words  you  have 
now  spoken.  My  thoughts  were  dark  and  bloody  enough 
before.  God  grant  they  may  not  lead  me  to  a  retribution 
He  will  not  pardon  !" 

"Forgive  me,  Tobias,  if  in  this  terrible  agony  I  have 
(48) 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  49 

uttered  words  to  wound  you.  I  kuow  not  rightly  what  I 
said ;  but  I  know  you  well,  my  boy,  better,  oh,  how  much 
better  than  all  the  world  beside  !  I  know  you  to  be  true 
and  strong  and  braver  than  the  lion  in  his  hungry  mood. 
I  did  not  mean  to  rouse  you  to  revenge.  It  would  be  deep 
sin  to  take  into  our  hands  what  the  Lord  has  declared  is 
His  own,  and  avenge,  according  to  our  poor  notions,  deeds 
which  He  has  himself  promised  he  'will  repay.'  It  may 
be  sweet,  but  it  should  be  enough  for  us  that  it  is  forbidden." 

"Yes,"  he  replied  gloomily,  "vengeance  is  forbidden, 
but  not  justice.     I  must  have  justice." 

There  was  more  in  the  tone,  than  the  words,  to  create 
apprehension  in  the  deeply  religious  mind  of  his  mother  ; 
and  looking  at  him  now  attentively  for  the  first  time  since 
they  had  met,  she  read  in  the  stern  lines  which  had  set- 
tled on  his  face  something  which  made  her  shudder.  He 
looked  ten  years  older  than  he  had  done  the  day  before,  and 
she  felt  instinctively  that  there  had  been  a  mighty  change 
within  as  well  a'S  without.  How  far  it  had  already  pro- 
gressed beyond  her  guidance,  she  could  not  fathom.  The 
tears  were  streaming  from  her  eyes,  but  his  were  dry.  She 
wiped  them  away,  and  again  looked  fixedly  upon  him  be- 
fore replying. 

"That  is  a  dangerous  mode  of  reasoning,  my  child;  but 
we  will  not  talk  of  that  now.  Tell  me  all,  at  least  all  you 
know  of  this  sad  business." 

So  saying,  she  led  the  way  to  her  own  room,  and  listened 
with  quivering  agony  to  all  her  son  had  to  relate.  When 
the  dark  story  was  ended,  she  threw  herself  on  the  bed 
buried  her  face  in  the  pillows,  and  sobbed  as  if  her  heart 
would  break.  The  young  man  watched  his  mother  in  silence, 
but  even  while  he  watched,  the  bloody  thoughts  which  had 
been  coming  and  going  in  his  mind  like  shadowy  visions, 
took  form  and  substance,  and  settled  themselves  in  his  heart 

5* 


50  TOBIAS    WILSOX. 

m 

forever.  Poising  slowly,  he  walked  from  the  room  without 
disturbing  her,  and  making  his  presence  known  to  the  fam- 
ily, inquired  for  Mr.  Rogers.  When  that  gentleman  was 
called  in,  he  shook  him  warmly  by  the  hand,  and  then  said 
in  a  husky  voice  : 

"You  will  be  sorry  to  learn,  Mr.  Kogers,  that  your 
friendly  warning  has  proved  to  be  of  no  avail.  My  grand- 
father was  murdered  yesterday  while  I  was  at  the  mill." 

"Good  God  !"  ejaculated  his  kind-hearted  friend.  "Is 
this  so  ?  Has  my  old  neighbor  been  really  murdered  on 
his  own  doorstep  ?  What  devil  from  hell  could  have  done 
so  foul  and  unprovoked  a  deed?" 

"  It  was  not  exactly  at  his  own  door.  He  was  surprised 
ia  his  field,  and  dragged  into  the  hollow  of  the  mountain, 
where  I  found  him  with  two  bullets  through  his  body." 

And  then  with  stern  calmness  he  repeated  the  story  he 
had  related  to  his  mother  a  few  minutes  before. 

When  he  had  ended,  Mr.  Rogers  said,  "Two  bullets  I 
Were  there  but  two  of  the  assassins  ?" 

"I  think  there  were  more,  but  I  did  not  examine  the 
footprints  in  the  corn  field  particularly.  I  shall  do  so 
when  I  return,  and  measure  them  besides.  Trust  me  that 
I  shall  neglect  nothing  which  will  lead  to  a  detection  of 
his  murderers.  Upon  that  matter,  however,  I  will  confer 
with  you  to-morrow.  My  present  business  is  to  beg  your 
aid,  and  that  of  one  or  two  of  your  neighbors  whom  you 
know  to  be  trustworthy,  to  assist  me  in  burying  the  body." 

"Of  course  you  shall  have  it.  We  can  bring  him  over 
the  mountain  before  sundown  to  my  house,  and  bury  him 
to-morrow  at  any  hour  to  suit  your  mother." 

"I  need  not  say  how  sincerely  and  earnestly  I  thank 
you;  but,  Mr.  Rogers,  he  must  be  buried  there.  I  want 
that  grave  by  me  as  long  as  I  am  able  to  watch  over  it.  If 
you  will  come  over  to-morrow  morning  with  one  or  two 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  51 

of  your  friends,  a  surgeon  and  a  minister  of  the  gospel, 
bringing  my  mother  with  you,  I  shall  be  deeply  grateful. 
I  have  brought  his  horse  for  her  to  ride  over." 

"Everything  shall  be  as  you  wish,  ray  young  friend." 

"  Thank  you,  sir.  And  now  if  you  will  allow  me  to  have 
some  conversation  with  my  mother,  I  will  ride  back  to 
keep  a  solitary  vigil  by  the  dead." 

"Xo,  Tobias,  that  must  not  be.  My  son  Thomas  shall 
go  with  you.  He  has  an  excellent  rifle;  he  is  young, 
strong,  and  fearless ;  and  if  these  devils  should  come  back 
to  finish  their  bloody  work,  they  will  be  apt  to  find  it  a 
more  diflScult  job  than  murdering  an  old  man  in  his  field. 
Go  in  and  see  your  mother;  I  will  have  him  ready  in 
twenty  minutes." 

"I  do  not  think  they  will  come  back;  but,  nevertheless, 
I  shall  be  glad  of  Tom's  company." 

Mr.  Rogers  went  to  call  his  son,  and  Tobias  Wilson 
sought  his  mother's  room  to  explain  the  arrangements 
which  had  been  made,  and  bid  her  good-by. 

In  less  than  half  an  hour  the  two  young  men  were  riding 
slowly  toward  that  solitary  glen,  which  but  one  short  day 
before  had  been  stained  with  so  foul  a  murder.  Turning 
the  sharp  angle  of  a  corn  field  which  ran  up  some  distance 
on  the  side  of  the  mountain,  they  suddenly  encountered  a 
horseman  approaching  from  the  opposite  direction,  who 
had  been  completely  hidden  from  view  by  the  thicket  of 
weeds  and  bushes  which  grew  along  the  worm  fence.  He 
was  a  man  of  about  fifty  years  of  age,  with  a  countenance 
which  would  have  been  pleasing,  but  for  the  shaggy  brows 
which  overhung  the  eyes,  and  eyes  themselves  that  never 
by  any  chance  emitted  a  ray  of  gladness  or  of  kindness. 
The  whole  face  betokened  resolution  and  strong  common 
sense.  In  different  times  and  with  different  training  he 
might  have  made  a  hillside  preacher,  such  as  would  have 


52  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

won  the  heart  of  John  Balfour,  of  Burleigh.  As  it  was, 
he  had  passed  thus  far  through  life  without  having  estab- 
lished any  other  character  than  that  of  a  zealous  Baptist, 
bigoted,  intolerant,  and  unforgiving.  He  had  never  been 
known  to  express  the  slightest  respect  for  any  man's  opin- 
ions when  they  differed  from  his  own,  and  he  firmly  believed 
that  every  politician  who  was  not  a  Democrat,  was  a  knave, 
and  every  Christian  who  was  not  a  Baptist,  was  a  hypo- 
crite. He  was  well  known  to  Thomas  Rogers,  and  To- 
bias Wilson  had  met  him  at  more  than  one  public  gathering 
during  the  exciting  times  of  1860.  The  path  was  barely 
wide  enough  for  two  horsemen  to  pass,  and  Thomas  Rogers, 
who  stood  not  a  little  in  awe  of  his  stern  acquaintance, 
reined  his  horse  to  one  side,  and  bowed  his  head  respect- 
fully as  he  said,  "Good  day,  Parson  Williams."  "Good 
day,  Thomas,"  was  the  rejoinder.  "I  hope  your  father's 
family  are  well."  He  had  never  checked  his  horse  for  an 
instant,  and  had  not  deigned  to  look  a  second  time  at  To- 
bias Wilson,  or  acknowledge  his  presence  even  by  a  nod. 
By  this  time  he  had  passed  the  young  men,  and  rode  on 
without  once  turning  his  head.  It  might  have  been  better 
for  him  if  he  had  done  so.  Tobias  Wilson  did  not  follow 
his  example,  but,  halting  his  own  steed,  turned  in  the  sad- 
dle, and  honored  both  horse  and  rider  with  a  keen  and 
searching  gaze,  which  was  not  removed  until  they  were 
hidden  by  the  intervening  bushes.  Had  Parson  Williams 
observed  that  look  and  guessed  the  suspicions  which  caused 
it,  he  could  hardly  have  ridden  on  in  such  seemingly  con- 
scious security. 

A  little  higher  up  the  mountain,  Tobias  Wilson,  speak- 
ing for  the  first  time  since  the  unexpected  meeting  with 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Williams,  said: 

"What  can  that  man  be  doing  here  ?" 

"I  have  been  trying  to  think,"  answered  Rogers,  "but 


TOBIAS    WIL  SOX.  53 

I  cannot.  Nor  could  we  have  found  out  by  asking  him. 
I  did  not  ask,  because  I  knew  I  should  only  get  some 
surly  answer,  such  as,  'Mind  your  own  business,  boy,'  or 
the  like." 

"I  am  glad  you  did  not  ask  him ;  but  that  need  not  hin- 
der us  from  asking  one  another,  and  indulging  in  such  specu- 
lations as  our  observations  may  suggest.  This  path  leads 
nowhere  but  to  my  grandfather's  house,  except  that  there 
is  a  cattle  path  on  the  top  of  the  mountain  which  leads 
around  to  Jim  Biles's  cabin.  You  know  every  foot  of  these 
mountains,  Tom,  as  well  as  I  do.     Is  not  what  I  say  true  ?" 

His  companion  mased  a  moment,  and  then  replied  :  "It 
certainly  is.  He  must  have  come  from  Jim  l&iles's,  for  you 
know  he  would  as  soon  put  his  foot  in  a  den  of  rattlesnakes 
as  to  pass  within  fifty  yards  of  your  grandfather's  house." 

"True  enough,  Tom, — unless  it  was  to  kill  him." 

"  To  kill  him  1  Why,  what  on  earth  do  you  mean  ? 
Parson  Williams  is  known  to  be  bitter  and  unforgiving; 
but  he  lived  here  before  we  were  born,  and  in  all  that  time 
there  has  been  no  whisper  against  his  character  as  an  up- 
right and  law-abiding  man." 

"  Don't  I  know  it  ?  Don't  I  know  that  he  has  been  held 
up  as  a  pattern  for  the  rising  generation  by  every  gray- 
haired  fool  in  the  neighborhood  ?  But  let  me  get  through 
with  my  questions,  and  then  we  can  the  better  form  our 
own  conclusions.     Did  you  notice  his  horse?" 

"Certainly.  I  have  known  the  horse  for  four  years. 
Everybody  who  knows  Williams  knows  old  Scuball." 

"  So  much  the  better.  Did  you  notice  that  he  had  lost 
a  shoe  ?" 

"jSTo.  But,"  he  continued  after  a  brief  pause,  "now 
that  I  think  of  it,  I  did  notice  that  he  limped." 

"Exactly;  and  the  reason  was  that  he  had  lost  a  shoe. 
There  is  no  smith  on  that  side,  and  the  horse  fell  lame  in 


54  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

crossing  the  mountain  with  one  bare  foot.  Another  ques- 
tion,— did  you  notice  his  gun  ?" 

"Yes,  particularly;  for  I  had  never  seen  him  carry  a 
gun  before.  It  was  an  old-fashioned,  smooth-bore  yager, 
which  carries  a  bigger  ball  than  a  musket." 

"Well,  now  you  have  answered  all  the  questions  I  desire 
to  ask  at  present,  I  will  give  you  my  thoughts,  conjectures, 
suspicions,  or  whatever  you  please  to  call  them.  There  is 
within  ten  miles  of  my  grandfather's  house  but  two  mem- 
bers of  Mr.  Williams's  church,  both  of  them  bitter  and  ma- 
lignant secessionists.  Both  of  them  with  sons  in  the 
Confederate  army.  Both  of  them  known  enemies  of  my 
grandfather,  who  they  have  often  been  heard  to  declare 
ought  to  be  hung,  as  a  traitor,  to  the  nearest  sapliug. 
There  are  but  three  entrances  to  the  valley  in  which  we 
live.  One  up  the  stream,  which  is  too  public  to  be  trav- 
eled by  assassins  in  broad  day,  and  besides,  I  myself  went 
out  and  came  in  on  that  road  that  very  day,  and  neither  in 
going  nor  coming  were  any  horse  tracks  visible.  If  there 
had  been  any,  I  should  have  seen  them;  for  we  had  been 
warned  by  your  father,  and  I  never  moved  a  step  beyond  our 
yard  without  careful  examination  of  the  ground.  By  that 
road  then  they  did  not  enter  our  field.  Another  road  is  the 
one  we  are  now  traveling.  I  examined  it  this  morning  as 
closely  as  if  my  soul's  salvation  depended  upon  the  discovery, 
but  it  exhibited  no  sign  of  the  footstep  of  man  or  beast.  The 
other  leads  down  the  gorge  from  Jim  Biles's  cabin,  some 
seven  miles  away.  That  one  has  not  yet  been  examined. 
But  stop;  we  are  now  at  a  point  where  some  further  dis- 
covery may  be  made.  There  is  the  path  to  Biles's.  Tie 
your  horse,  and  let  us  follow  it  a  little  way." 

They  dismounted  accordingly,  and  tying  their  horses  to 
some  bushes,  proceeded  along  the  narrow  pathway,  not 
treading  directly  in  it,  but  each  keeping  a  little  on  one  side. 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  55 

The  ground  was  hard  and  dry,  and  though  there  were  sev- 
eral places  where  it  seemed  to  have  been  very  recently  dis- 
turbed, it  was  Impossible  to  decide  positively  that  the  dis- 
turbance had  been  caused  by  a  horse's  feet.  In  about  two 
hundred  yards  they  came  to  a  small  open  space,  on  one 
side  of  which  a  large  chestnut-tree  was  growing  out  of  a 
mossy  mound.  The  attention  of  Rogers  was  attracted  by 
something  at  the  root  of  the  tree  :  approaching  hastily,  he 
picked  it  up,  and  found  it  to  be  a  torn  fragment  of  a  news- 
paper. It  was  greasy  in  places,  and  crumbs  of  bread  were 
sticking  to  it.  There  could  be  no  mistaking  the  use  to 
which  it  had  been  put.  It  had  been  wrapped  around  some 
bread  and  meat,  and  had  been  left  on  the  ground  by  some 
one  after  his  "snack"  had  been  eaten.  On  further  exam- 
ination, the  paper  was  discovered  to  be  "  The  Baptist  Re- 
cord." 

"Put  it  away,  Tom,"  said  Wilson  sternly,  but  in  a  voice 
so  low  as  to  be  almost  a  whisper ;  "put  it  away  carefully. 
And  here,"  he  added,  stooping  and  picking  up  something 
from  the  mossy  bank,  "here  we  have  something  else." 

It  was  a  cow's  horn,  well  boiled  and  cleaned,  but  without 
being  trimmed  or  ornamented  in  any  way.  There  was  a 
hole  bored  in  the  small  or  solid  end,  and  a  strong  leathern 
string  run  through  it. 

"It's  the  drinking  cup  from  the  spring!"  exclaimed 
Rogers.  "The  rascal  has  brought  it  here,  and  when  his 
meal  was  finished  he  was  too  lazy  to  carry  it  back.  Many's 
the  sweet  drink  I've  taken  from  that  horn  in  the  last  five 
years,  and  if  we  had  not  come  along,  it  would  have  been 
lost,  all  from  that  cursed  fellow's  laziness  !" 

"  Perhaps  he  had  darker  things  to  think  of.  But  come 
along,  we  will  take  it  back  for  him  and  hang  it  in  its  old 
place  on  the  red-berry  sapling." 

Walking  to  a  rocky  clitf  some  thirty  yards  distant,  they 


56  TOBIASWILSON. 

came  to  a  remarkably  cool  but  very  small  spring  trickling 
down  the  face  of  the  rocks.  The  cattle  raisers  had  placed 
boards  in  such  a  way  as  to  gather  all  the  water  from  the 
little  spring  into  two  large  troughs,  and  in  this  way  man- 
aged to  keep  a  supply  for  their  stock  in  the  driest  season. 
The  ground  about  the  troughs  was  soft,  though  not  abso- 
lutely muddy,  the  scanty  supply  escaping  from  the  troughs 
not  being  sufficient  to  do  more  than  keep  the  earth  moist. 
Here  the  horse's  tracks  were  distinctly  visible.  The  rider 
appeared  to  have  ridden  directly  to  the  trough,  and  to 
have  dismounted  while  the  animal  was  drinking.  His  foot- 
print where  he  had  alighted  was  plainly  visible.  It  was  a 
large  and  rather  broad  foot  which  had  been  incased  in 
coarse  boots  or  heavy  shoes,  with  iron  tacks  on  the  inside, 
from  the  ball  of  the  foot  to  the  toe,  seemingly  placed  there 
to  prevent  the  sole  from  wearing  away  at  the  point  of 
greatest  attrition.  The  horse's  feet  were  equally  wxll  de- 
fined in  many  places,  and  it  was  plain  that  he  had  on  but 
three  shoes.  When  these  discoveries  had  been  made,  the 
young  men  gazed  at  each  other  in  silence.  It  was  broken 
by  Thomas  Rogers,  who  said  : 

*'  Come,  Tobe,  we  have  got  enough  !  The  Devil  himself 
could  not  raise  a  doubt  that  Parson  Williams  has  been  here 
this  day.  Let  us  take  a  drink  from  our  old  friend  here," 
patting  the  horn,  "  and  be  off.  There  is  much  yet  to  do 
to-day  1" 

"Wait  a  moment,  Tom  !  I  want  you  to  examine  all  the 
peculiarities  of  this  human  foot,  and  see  me  measure  it 
exactly,  both  in  its  length  and  breadth." 

"I  don't  see  the  use  of  it.  We've  got  enough  without 
it,  and  besides,  I  once  heard  a  lawyer  in  Bellefonte  argue 
to  a  jury  that  the  print  of  a  man's  foot  was  the  w'eakest  of 
all  evidence,  because  a  man  deliberately  intending  to  act 
the  scoundrel  or  the  murderer,  would  be  sure  to  put  on 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  57 

shoes  of  a  diflferent  size  and  shape  from  those  he  usually 
wore.  Still,  if  you  wish  it,  I  shall  do  as  you  ask,  of 
course  1" 

"  I  do  wish  it !  No  matter  what  the  lawyer  said,  it  is 
evidence,  and,  besides,  I  expect  to  put  it  to  another  use,  at 
least  to  make  it  help  other  evidence  if  it  is  not  evidence 
itself." 

Thomas  Rogers  gave  close  attention  to  all  the  peculiari- 
ties Tobias  Wilson  pointed  oat,  though,  to  tell  the  truth, 
he  thought  in  his  heart  some  of  them  were  no  peculiarities 
at  all.  He  saw  the  foot  measured  across  the  heel,  across 
the  ball  of  the  foot,  across  the  toe,  and  from  heel  to  toe. 
When  this  was  done,  and  the  accuracy  of  the  measurement 
tested  several  times,  they  each  took  a  long  and  hearty 
draught  from  the  horn,  walked  back  to  their  horses,  and 
rode  slowly  down  the  mountain  to  the  chamber  of  the  dead, 
which  was  watched  only  by  the  faithful  dogs  he  had  fed  and 
caressed  in  his  lifetime. 


CHAPTER  Y. 

They  found  the  dogs  locked  within  the  house.  Nothing 
had  been  disturbed.  After  a  brief  survey  of  the  dead- 
room  they  locked  it  up  as  before,  fed  the  dogs  and  horses, 
and  started  to  the  scene  of  the  murder.  There  was  now 
not  more  than  three  hours  of  daylight,  and  they  could  not 
afford  to  waste  any  part  of  that  in  preparing  refreshments 
for  themselves.  Going  directly  to  the  point  where  the  old 
man  had  begun  his  last  furrow,  they  followed  it  toward  the 
place  of  the  last  dread  scene  of  his  life.  About  half  way 
they  discovered  where  three  men  had  entered  the  row  be- 
hind the  plowman,  and  cautiously  followed  his  steps. 
Rogers  proposed  to  trace  these  tracks  to  the  point  where 
they  had  entered  the  field,  but  Wilson  interposed  a  decided 
negative. 

"We  will  follow  them,"  he  said,  "when  we  come  back, 
but  I  wish  to  make  a  full  examination  yonder  while  the 
day  lasts,"  pointing  forward  as  he  spoke.  "We  shall  find 
the  strongest  'signs'  there,  and  if  we  put  it  off  until  to- 
morrow it  may  rain,  and  all  the  traces  be  obliterated." 

While  speaking,  he  had  cut  down  four  or  five  stalks  of 
corn,  and  piling  them,  standing  on  end,  against  one  another, 
formed  a  kind  of  stack  to  mark  the  place. 

At  the  point  where  the  furrow  stopped  they  observed  all 
the  marks  of  a  violent  scufiie.  The  old  man  must  have  re- 
sisted his  captors  manfully.  There  were  the  prints  of  many 
feet  deeply  indented  in  the  soil.  The  corn  was  broken  here 
and  there,  and  there  was  an  appearance  like  that  which 
(58) 


TOBIAS    WILSOX.  59 

would  have  been  made  by  the  falling  of  a  human  body  on 
the  soft  earth.  There  was  some  torn  clothing,  but  nothino- 
of  a  kind  to  be  clearly  identified,— it  was  white,  and  only 
showed  that  both  assailants  and  assailed  had  probably  been 
in  their  shirt-sleeves.  Near  by  they  picked  up  a  heavy 
hickory  club,  but  this  could  lead  to  nothing,  for  it  had  been 
fresh  cut,  and  was  probably  growing  upon  the  mountain 
side  not  an  hour  before  the  deed  was  done.  Tobias  TVilson 
made  an  earnest  but  unsatisfactory  examination  of  the  foot- 
prints. The  soil  was  too  loose  and  dry  to  retain  well-de- 
fined impressions. 

"I  see  it  all,"  he  muttered  almost  inarticulately.  ''He 
fought  until  they  knocked  him  on  the  head  with  this 
murderous  club,  and  then  they  dragged  him  into  yonder 
hollow,  where  they  thought  he  would  not  be  found  for 
many  days,  and  shot  him.  Let  us  now  go  on  to  where  the 
last  act  in  this  bloody  tragedy  was  enacted." 

They  did  not  fail  to  scrutinize  every  foot  of  the  way ;  but 
no  further  discovery  was  made.     The  ground  where  the 
body  had  been  found  was  soaked  with  blood,  but  there  was 
no  other  witness  to  tell  that  from  hence  a  soul  had  winged 
its  way  to  eternity.     Up  the  ascent  of  the  hollow  there  was 
a  comparatively  level  space,  over  which  the  water  in  the 
rainy  season  did  not  rush  in   one  compact  volume,  but 
spread  out  on  either  hand  for  many  feet,  gathering  conse- 
quently much  of  the  rich  loam  which  was  washed  down 
from  the  mountain  sides  by  the  winter  rains.     Except  near 
the  middle  of  the  plain,  where  the  bed  of  the  torrent  was 
in   wet  weather,  and  which  was    a   cattle   path   in    sum- 
mer, it  was  covered  with  a  heavy  undergrowth  of  paw- 
paws, hickory  bushes,  and  the  tall  rank  iron  weed.     To 
this  place  Thomas  Rogers  made  his  way,  while  his  com- 
panion was  still    groping   about  his  grandfather's  death 
couch.     The  sight  of  the  blood  seemed  to  have  unnerved 


60  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

him,  and  the  quick  intelligence  which  had  marked  all  his 
movements  up  to  this  time,  had  fled.  Those  blotches  of 
red  on  the  leaves,  those  clots  of  purple  jelly  on  the  hard, 
dry  ground  had  almost  converted  him  into  a  woman.  He 
was  roused  by  his  companion's  voice  :  "Here,  Tobe;  here 
the  whole  damnable  story  is  written." 

Springing  to  the  side  of  his  friend,  he  grasped  his  arm 
and  exclaimed,  "Where?"  "There!"  was  the  reply,  as  he 
led  him  a  few  feet  forward.  "  Don't  you  see  where  three 
horses  have  been  tied  to  these  bushes?  Don't  you  see 
where  they  have  bitten  the  leaves  and  stamped  the  gi*ound  ? 
Don't  you  see  that  the  middle  horse  had  three  shoes,  and 
the  farther  horse  none  ?  while  the  nearest  one  to  us  was 
well  and  freshly  shod  ?  Don't  you  see  where  that  hickory 
bush  has  been  cut  down  ?  Xow  try  the  bludgeon  in  your 
hand,  and  see  if  it  does  not  fit  the  stump." 

It  did  fit,  and  Tobias  Wilson  rose  from  his  knees,  saying 
only,  "It  is  enough."  "Yes,  it  is  enough;  but  there  is 
more.  Look  at  this  track  where  the  middle  horse  waS 
mounted.  Here  are  the  iron  tacks  on  the  inner  side  only. 
Pull  out  your  measure  and  see  how  it  corresponds  in  other 
respects." 

The  same  foot  had  made  the  two  tracks  beyond  all 
doubt. 

"  We  are  not  done  yet,"  continued  Rogers,  leading  Wil- 
son to  the  torrent's  bed,  in  the  middle  of  the  thicket.  "  Look 
at  these  three  pools  of  water  which  the  deep  shade  has 
prevented  the  sun  from  drying  up.  The  lower  one  is  still 
bloody.  It  was  here  they  washed  their  bloody  hands. 
Just  over  there,  under  that  large  limestone  rock,  you  can 
see  where  they  knelt  down  and  drank  themselves,  and  here, 
in  this  larger  one,  is  where  they  watered  their  horses. 
Afterward  they  rode  through  it, — you  can  see  where  they 
went  out  and  took  up  this  hollow,  which  leads  nowhere 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  61 

but  to  Jim  Biles's  house.  And  look  here,"  he  added,  ex- 
hibiting a  yellow  bandana  handkerchief,  ''I  found  this  on 
the  rock  by  the  pool  where  they  had  kneeled  down  to 
drink.  It  is  soaked  with  blood — probably  they  spread  it 
oat  on  the  rock  to  dry,  and  forgot  it  when  they  rode  away. 
A  man  can't  have  all  his  senses  about  him  when  engaged 
in  such  a  damnable  'spot  of  work'  as  this.  It  has  no  mark 
upon  it ;  but  when  did  you  ever  see  a  handkerchief  like 
this  in  the  pocket  of  any  man  but  a  Baptist?" 

"I  do  not  understand  it  yet,"  said  Wilson. 

"Don't  understand  it?  What  the  devil  is  the  matter 
with  you  ?     Why  don't  you  understand  it?" 

"Because  this  evidence  is  satisfactory  only  as  to  two 
men,  and  we  know  that  there  were  three.  I  don't  under- 
stand who  the  third  one  could  have  been." 

"Fiddle-de-dee!     Why,  man  alive,  where  are  your  wits 
gone  to?     Didn't  you  tell  me  to-day  that  there  were  but' 
two  Baptists  in  ten  miles  of  your  house?" 

"Yes,  and  that  is  certainly  the  fact." 

"You  needn't  tell  me  who  those  two  are,  for  I  know 
them  myself, — Jim  Biles  and  Josh  Wilkins.  One  of  the 
horses  hitched  yonder  was  a  gray,  for  he  rubbed  himself 
against  the  sapling  and  left  a  part  of  his  hair  upon  it. 
That  horse  was  shod  all  around.  Jim  Biles  owns  no  gray 
horse,  and  lives  too  far  away  from  a  shop  to  have  him  reg- 
ularly shod  if  he  did.  He  has  been  riding  all  this  year  a 
sorrel  colt,  raised  on  the  mountain,  which  has  never  had  a 
shoe  nailed  on  it.  That  well-shod  gray  was,  therefore,  not 
his ;  nor  could  it  have  been  Parson  Williams's,  for  we 
know  that  his  horse  had  on  but  three  shoes,  and  is  a 
scuball.  Josh  Wilkins  rides  an  iron-gray,  and  a  splendid 
one  he  is.  He  is  a  conscript  officer,  and  it  is  therefore  ne- 
cessary that  he  should  keep  his  horse  well  shod;  and 
besides,  it  is  but  little  trouble,  for  he  has  a  smith's  shop  at 

6* 


62  TO  BIAS    WILS  ON. 

his  house.  And  now,  if  you  can't  trace  out  every  link  of 
this  infernal  business,  you  can't  read  the  print  in  my  sister 
Sophy's  Bible.  It  has  been  brewing  for  some  time,  and  I 
would  have  ridden  over  to  warn  you,  if  father  had  not  told 
me  he  had  already  done  so.  I  knew  more  than  he  did, 
though  I  never  suspected  Parson  Ben  Williams;  but  I  see 
it  all  now.  I  told  my  father  what  additional  particulars  I 
had  gathered,  and  asked  him  whether  I  should  go  and  tell 
you  ;  but  he  said  '  no,'  that  you  knew  enough  to  put  you  on 
your  guard,  and  that  it  was  unnecessary  to  distress  you 
more." 

"Your  father  was  right,"  interrupted  Wilson.  "He 
judged  rightly,  and  acted,  as  he  always  does,  prudently 
and  kindly.  We  could  not  have  adopted  any  further  pre- 
cautions, unless  we  had  moved  away  altogether,  and  that 
grandfather  never  would  have  agreed  to.  Your  father 
did  perfectly  right." 

"Well,  I  believe  so.  But  let  me  go  on  with  my  story. 
After  what  he  said  I  was  afraid  to  blab  a  word  even  to 
Sophy ;  but  I  kept  a  sharp  look  out,  and  hearing  nothing 
new,  began  to  think  it  was  dying  away.  Last  Saturday  I 
heard  that  there  was  to  be  a  Baptist  preaching  in  Hog  Hol- 
low, close  by  Parson  Williams's,  and  I  asked  Sophy  to  go 
there  with  me.  She  refused,  partly  I  think  because  she 
don't  like  the  Baptists,  and  partly  because  she  doea  like  to 
be  always  with  your  mother.  So,  as  I  had  no  one  to  go  with 
me,  I  concluded  to  stay  at  home  myself.  I  wish  now  that 
I  had  gone,  for  it  was  there  that  this  devilish  murder  was 

concocted.     I  think  I  can  see  old  Williams  now  (d n 

him !)  sitting  in  his  back  porch,  with  pious  Josh  Wilkins 
and  snuffling  Jim  Biles,  drinking  peach  brandy  and  honey, 
and  talking  about  the  great  glory  they  were  going  to  ren- 
der to  God  and  their  country,  by  murdering  a  Union 
man,  and  an  anti-Baptist.     I  know  just  what  they  said  and 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  63 

how  they  said  it,  and  how  they  agreed  to  meet  at  Jim 
Biles's  house  on  Wednesday,  and  spend  the  night  in  drink- 
ing, and  praying,  and  perfecting  their  plan  of  murder. 
Jim  Biles's  house  was  fixed  on,  because  that  was  the  only 
way  in  which  they  could  get  into  this  valley,  in  the  day- 
time, without  attracting  observation,  and  they  must  have 
suspected  that  you  kept  regular  guard  at  night.  Well, 
yesterday  they  rode  down  to  this  place  early,  and  tied  their 
horses.  They  did  not  expect,  in  my  opinion,  to  find  your 
grandfather  here,  but  somewhere  else  in  the  field.  So  they 
crawled  along  the  side  of  the  mountain,  outside  of  the 
fence,  watching  like  blood-thirsty  panthers  for  their  prey. 
If  you  had  been  with  him,  they  would  have  shot  you  both 
from  their  cover;  but  you  were  not  with  him,  and  this 
doubtless  delayed  operations  for  several  hours.  If  they 
shot  the  old  man,  you  might  be  near  enough  to  come  up 
before  they  could  get  away,  and  you  had  furnished  them 
proof,  in  shooting  Simmons,  that  in  that  case  one,  at  least, 
of  their  horses  would  go  back  without  a  rider.  It  is  my 
belief  that  they  waited  until  somewhere  near  twelve  o'clock, 
and  then,  fearing  that  the  old  man  might  'turn  out'  at  the 
end  of  the  next  row,  and  go  home  to  feed  his  horse,  they 
fell  upon  the  plan  of  following  after,  (which  was  easy 
enough  from  the  rustling  noise  made  by  the  plow  and 
horse  in  the  high  corn,)  and  pouncing  upon  him  when  he 
neared  the  woods.  I  do  not  suppose  he  made  any  cry  for 
help,  because  he  knew  there  was  none  at  hand,  and  there- 
fore they  did  not  use  the  bludgeon  until  they  found  his  re- 
sistance greater  than  they  expected.  They  naturally  sup- 
posed his  horse  would  go  back  to  the  stable,  and,  if  they 
could  get  the  body  up  this  hollow,  it  would  be  weeks  be- 
fore it  was  found.  Thus  the  few  individuals  they  might 
chance  to  meet  outside  of  their  own  murdering  crew,  would 
by  that  time  probably  forget  so  common  a  circumstance, 


64  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

and  nothing  would  be  left  to  connect  them  with  the  deed. 
But,  thank  God,  we  have  proof  enough  to  hang  two  of 
them,  and  I  trust  we  shall  get  enough  to  hang  the  other." 

Here  Tobias  Wilson  broke  in  with  a  bitter,  sneering 
laugh. 

"Hang  a  conscript  officer  and  two  original  secessionists! 
Hang  them  before  a  Confederate  judge  and  jury!  Oh! 
Thomas,  Thomas,  it  is  you  who  are  moonstruck  now!" 

"You  think,"  exclaimed  his  astonished  companion,  "that 
they  will  escape  with  all  this  evidence  against  them?" 

"Assuredly  I  do." 

"  Then  what  have  we  taken  the  trouble  to  collect  it  for  ?" 

"For  my  own  conscience'  sake.  But  come,  the  sun  is 
below  the  mountain  top.  TYe  must  get  back  to  the  house, 
and  feed  the  stock.  The  poor  brutes  must  not  suffer  be- 
cause we  are  in  trouble.  We  can  talk  further  as  we  walk 
on,  and  the  night  is  all  before  us.  I  fancy  that  neither  of 
us  will  sleep  much." 

Shouldering  their  rifles,  and  taking  the  bludgeon  and 
the  bloody  handkerchief  along  with  them,  they  turned  their 
steps  homeward.  They  passed  the  little  stack  of  corn 
which  had  been  made  to  mark  the  point  where  the  mur- 
derers entered  the  field,  but  neither  of  them  noticed  it. 
They  knew  all  that  any  further  search  could  reveal.  Each 
was  busy  with  his  own  thoughts  of  the  future, — so  busy 
that  they  even  forgot  the  suggestion  that  had  been  made 
to  hold  further  converse  on  the  way. 

In  the  same  silence  they  reached  the  cabins,  unlocked 
the  door  of  the  kitchen,  and  deposited  their  rifles  within. 
Then  Tobias  Wilson  went  to  feed  the  stock,  and  Rogers 
set  about  building  a  fire  to  cook  their  evening  meal. 

Tobias  Wilson  had  not  tasted  food  during  the  day,  and 
Rogers  had  eaten  nothing  since  sunrise,  (that  being  the 
breakfast  hour  in  his  father's  house,)  so  that,  notwithstand- 


TOBIAS    ^VIL  SON.  65 

ing  the  great  grief  which  had  fallen  upon  them,  and  the 
troublesome  nature  of  the  thoughts  which  afflicted  them, 
both  did  full  justice  to  the  plenteous  meal  prepared  by 
their  own  hands. 

Supper  over,  lights  were  placed  in  Mr.  Johnson's  room, 
and  the  two  young  men  seated  themselves  by  the  fire,  (which 
is  always  agreeable  at  night  among  those  mountains,)  and 
resumed  their  conversation. 

"You  must  not  suppose,  Tom,"  said  Wilson,  "that  I 
would  have  put  you,  or  myself  either,  to  the  trouble  we 
have  this  day  taken,  if  I  had  entertained  the  remotest  idea 
of  permitting  a  Confederate  court  to  sit  in  judgment  upon 
my  rights  or  my  wrongs.  The  idea  of  hanging  those 
criminals,  when  tried  before  such  a  tribunal,  is  utterly  pre- 
posterous. Not  a  hair  of  their  heads  would  be  touched  if 
an  angel  came  down  from  heaven  to  testify  against  them, 
and  an  archangel  to  plead  the  cause  of  justice.  Xo,  my 
friend,  you  must  dismiss  that  idea  !" 

"What,  then,  do  you  intend  to  do  ?" 

"Kill  them  myself  Send  them,  before  the  ground  has 
drank  up  his  blood,  to  meet  him  at  the  bar  of  God's  jus- 
tice,— not  of  man's." 

"In  that  case,  Tobias  Wilson,  allow  me  to  observe,  that^ 
if  you  expect  to  kill  all  three  of  these  men  yourself,  you 
are  most  damnably  deceived." 

"I  know  that  there  is  danger  and  difficulty  in  the  under- 
taking. I  know  that  they  will  be  backed  by  many  friends, 
and  I  do  not  shut  my  eyes  to  the  probability  of  losing  my 
own  life  instead  of  taking  theirs.  But,  nevertheless,  I  shall 
try  the  venture." 

"That  is  not  what  I  mean.  I  mean  that  I  shall  take  a 
part  of  the  job  off  your  hands." 

"  You  I"  answered  his  friend  with  a  surprised  look ;  "you  I 
why,  what  was  my  grandfather  to  you  that  you  should  im- 


6Q  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

peril  your  life,  it  may  be  your  soul,  in  this  desperate  adven- 
ture? Xo,  Thomas,  you  must  not  interfere  here  ;  you  have 
nothing  to  avenge  !" 

"If  I  have  nothing  to  avenge,  I  have  a  friend  from  whose 
side  I  am  not  mean  and  cowardly  enough  to  shrink  in  the 
hour  of  his  greatest  need.  Nay,  he  is  something  more  than 
a  friend,  for  he  loves  my  sweet  sister  Sophy  and  she  loves 
him ;  and  as  they  have  both  been  foolish  enough  to  tell  me 
of  their  love  and  of  their  future  hopes,  you  must  submit  to 
a  little  brotherly  interference  and  accept  a  little  brotherly 
assistance  in  a  matter  which  I  think  very  deeply  concerns 
her  happiness." 

Tobias  TTilson  felt  as  if  an  aorue  fit  had  laid  its  icy  hand 
upon  hira.  He  bowed  his  head  upon  his  bosom,  and  for  a 
moment  strong  traces  of  irresolution  were  visible  upon 
those  hitherto  marble  features.  By  a  mighty  effort  he 
drove  them  away,  but  they  soon  returned,  and,  fixing  an 
eager  gaze  upon  young  Rogers's  face,  he  said  : 

"Tell  me,  Thomas,  and  tell  me  honestly  for  the  love  of 
Heaven,  what  will  she  say  when  she  comes  to  know  (for  she 
shall  hear  nothing  of  it  before  the  deed  is  done)  that  my 
hands  are  stained  with  the  blood  of  those  who  deprived  me 
of  a  parent  ?" 

"What  will  she  say?  Why,  I  hope  she  will  say  what 
she  did  when  you  shot  Simmons,  and  a  brainless  old  woman 
ventured  to  call  you  a  murderer  in  her  presence.  She  will 
say  that  you  did  what  a  brave  man  and  a  dutiful  son  could 
not  help  doing,  and  that  those  who  gave  the  act  the  name 
of  murder  were  themselves  the  worst  of  murderers,  since 
they  were  impelled  by  no  motive  but  to  destroy  the  char- 
acters of  those  who  were  a  thousand  times  better  than 
themselves." 

"Did  she  say  that?  Did  the  brave  girl  thus  defend  the 
absent?  It  is  like  her;  just  like  her.  But  I  never  heard 
it  before  1" 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  67 

"  No ;  for  the  foolish  thing  made  me  promise  not  to  tell 
you.  She  said  you  would  be  hurt  to  know  that  rude  peo- 
ple had  spoken  of  you  in  terms  of  such  injustice." 

"Like  her  again!  But  suppose,  Thomas,  my  mother 
should  tell  her  that  it  was  her  duty  to  break  off  an  engage- 
ment made  with  a  man  who  was  innocent  at  the  time,  but 
who  had  since  sold  his  soul  to  Satan  for  revenge." 

The  bold,  frank  brother,  firm  as  his  nerves  were,  turned 
pale  at  the  question.  He  hesitated,  stammered,  and  fidg- 
eted uneasily  in  his  chair,  but  at  last  he  caught  an  idea. 

"  That  is  a  new  view  of  the  matter,  and  a  puzzling  one. 
I  was  foolish  to  overlook  it.  But  your  mother  will  never 
be  such  a  bigoted  ninny.  It's  a  downright  impossibility. 
Putting  aside  her  love  for  you,  she  loves  Sophy  too  much. 
It  can't  be.     It's  sheer  folly  to  think  of  it !" 

"But  suppose  she  shouldV^ 

"Then,  Tobe,  if  you  will  have  it,  as  God  is  my  judge,  I 
believe  Sophy  would  break  her  own  heart  and  yours  and 
mine  rather  than  disobey  your  mother's  warning  voice  in  a 
matter  of  conscience  and  religion.  It  would  kill  her,  but 
she  would  obey  in  the  case  you  put.  But  why  ask  me  ? 
You  know  her  better  than  I,  or  at  least  you  ought  to  do  it. 
You  have  given  her  your  heart,  your  soul,  everything  you 
had  to  give,  and  a  great  deal,  which,  as  a  responsible  being, 
you  had  no  right  to  part  with.  She  could  make  you  turn 
traitor  to  your  God  in  an  hour.  Before  putting  such  ab- 
solute trust  in  a  woman,  you  ought  to  have  known  her  well 
enough  to  decide  with  certainty  what  her  conduct  would 
be  in  any  and  every  contingency." 

"I  think  I  do  know  her  as  far  as  a  nature  like  mine  is 
capable  of  comprehending  one  as  sinless  as  hers.  I  have 
often  thought  that  there  were  degrees  of  purity  and  per- 
fection even  in  heaven ;  that  there  were  beings  so  high,  so 
pure,  so  holy,  that  they  were  no  more  capable  of  being 


68  T  0  B  I A  S     W  I  L  S  0  N. 

comprehended  and  understood  by  the  lesser  angels,  than 
we  are  capable  of  being  comprehended  and  understood 
by  the  lower  animals  of  creation.  In  this  light  your  sister 
always  appears  to  me.  Her  dutiful  conduct  as  a  daugh- 
ter, her  kindness  as  a  sister,  her  charity  as  a  friend,  her 
gentleness,  and  the  sweetness  of  her  disposition,  I  un- 
derstand ;  for  these  are  qualities  which  are  common 
to  others  of  her  sex.  But  these  are  not  all  which  is 
requisite  to  make  up  the  highest  order  of  character. 
There  is  something  above  and  beyond  this.  Something 
which  I  feel  and  worship,  but  cannot  describe.  And 
therefore  I  turned  to  you.  I  had  a  hope,  a  faint  one  it  is 
true,  but  still  a  hope,  that  yoii,  who  had  watched  her  in  in- 
fancy, petted  her  in  girlhood,  and  stood  by  her  side  as  a 
strong  tower  of  defense  in  the  days  of  her  blooming  maid- 
enhood, might  somehow  have  obtained  a  glimpse  of  that 
knowledge  which  is  forbidden  to  me.  I  see  that  I  was  mis- 
taken, and  I  acknowledge  to  a  kind  of  selfish  satisfaction 
in  making  the  discovery.  It  would  have  pained  me,  I  fear, 
to  learn  that  the  highest  and  noblest,  though  not  the  loveli- 
est attributes  of  her  nature,  were  better  understood  by  an- 
other than  by  myself.  That  scratch,  at  least,  I  have  es- 
caped. It  may  be  that  other  and  more  dreaded  wounds 
may  be  avoided  as  easily.  But  as  we  are  not  likely  to  ar- 
rive at  anything  satisfactory  by  a  further  discussion,  let  us 
change  the  topic.  In  a  few  days  we  may  think  of  some 
form  of  putting  the  question  to  her  or  to  my  mother,  which 
will  enable  us  to  find  out  what  we  wish  to  learn  without  ex- 
citing suspicion.  My  hand  will  not  be  fit  for  the  work 
that  is  before  it  until  that  question  is  solved.  If  I  have 
reason  to  think  that  she  will  approve — no,  not  that, — for  I 
know  that  she  will  not  apjDrove,  but  that  she  will  not  utterly 
condemn  me,  I  shall  go  forward  cheerfully  as  to  a  God- 
appointed  task.    If  she  condemns — why,  then  I  shall  know 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  69 


the  worst,  and  may  draw  upon  despair  for  the  firmness  and 
calmness  necessary  to  the  performance  of  my  task." 

The  last  words,  solemn  as  they  were  in  themselves,  and 
still  more  solemn  in  their  utterance,  had,  strangely  enough, 
excited  a  smile  of  quiet  satisfaction  upon  the  lips  of  Thomas 
Rosrers. 

"  That's  it  exactly,  Toby  I  Get  Sophy's  opinion  somehow. 
I  don't  care  in  what  way  you  go  about  it,  but  get  her  opin- 
ion by  all  means.  And,  in  order  that  I  may  hereafter  enjoy 
some  little  reputation  as  a  prophet,  I  will  tell  you  before- 
hand what  it  will  be.  She  will  tell  you  that  it  is  somewhere 
written  in  a  certain  book  which  sleeps  every  night  under  her 
pillow,  'Vengeance  is  mine,  saith  the^Lord,  I  will  repay.' 
And  if  you  go  to  arguing  about  the  wickedness  of  allow- 
ing such  men  as  the  murderers  of  Robert  Johnson  to  go  at 
large,  she  will  put  her  pretty  little  hand  upon  your  arm  and 
answer,  'We  must  not  do  evil  that  good  may  follow,'  and 
then  you  will  look  down  into  the  depths  of  those  sweet 
blue  eyes,  sweeter  and  lovelier  than  any  which  were  ever 
shaded  by  the  eyelashes  of  an  angel,  and  your  very  soul 
will  go  out  from  your  keeping.  You  will  kneel  at  her  feet, 
call  her  your  guardian  angel,  and  fling  vengeance  to  the 
bottomless  pit.  You  have  never  kissed  her,  Tobe  !  I  know 
it;  for  one  day  last  week  when  you  came  to  see  your  mo- 
ther, I  tried  to  tease  her  after  you  were  gone,  and  asked 
if  your  parting  kiss  was  a  sweet  one.  She  answered 
quietly,  that  you  had  never  offered  to  kiss  her,  either  at 
parting  or  at  meeting.  When  you  give  op  your  proposed 
vengeance  for  her  sake,  and  at  her  bidding,  that  will  be  the 
time  to  make  up  for  what  you  have  lost  in  the  last  three 
years.  Kiss  her,  Tobe,  and  then  kiss  her  again,  and  again. 
I  will  answer  for  it  that,  at  such  a  time,  she  will  submit  as 
gently  as  a  sucking  lamb.  Kiss  her  as  often  as  you  please, 
and  then,"  he  added,  suddenly  dropping  the  bantering  tone 

7 


70  TOBIAS    WILSOX. 

in  which  he  had  spoken,  and  clinching  his  hand,  while  his 
brow  grew  dark,  and  his  eyes  lurid  with  inward  fire,  "and 
then  thank  God  that  you  have  a  brother-in-law,  or  at  least 
a  friend  who  expects  soon  to  be  one.  Sophy  shall  not  go 
down  to  the  grave  with  a  broken  heart,  nor  shall  you  lose 
your  revenge.  Instead  of  taking  a  part  of  the  contract,  I 
take  it  all.  In  six  weeks  from  this  date,  Ben  Williams, 
Josh  Wilkins,  and  Jim  Biles  will  be  rotting  under  ground, 
or  Thomas  Rogers,  Jr.,  will  be  foresworn  !" 

The  look  of  displeased  annoyance  with  which  Wilson 
had  listened  to  the  foregoing  part  of  this  speech,  now  turned 
to  one  of  blank  astonishment  and  dismay. 

"Good  God!"  he  exclaimed;  "this  must  not,  cannot, 
shall  not  be !" 

"It  must;  it  can  ;  it  shall !" 

"But  reflect,  Tom,  upon  the  terrible  disgrace — " 

"I  shall  reflect  upon  nothing,"  interrupted  Rogers  im- 
patiently, and  almost  fiercely,  "but  the  plain  and  palpable 
fact,  that  if  I  let  you  and  Sophy  alone,  you  will  either  dig 
untimely  graves  for  yourselves,  or  you  will  permit  three 
tiger  cats,  in  human  shape,  to  prowl  over  the  land  and 
gorge  themselves  with  innocent  blood.  How  do  I  know 
that  the  next  victim  may  not  be  my  own  father  ?  He  is  as 
obnoxious  to  them  as  Robert  Johnson  was." 

"  But  why  take  the  worst  view  and  assume  its  correct- 
ness at  once  ?  It  might  happen  that  although  she  would 
oppose  the  deed  before  it  was  committed,  yet  after  it  was 
done  she  would  forgive  me,  and  our  engagement  would  re- 
main unbroken." 

"  Jesus,  God  !  man,  you  will  make  me  angry  if  you  re- 
peat such  a  supposition  !  What !  Sophy  take  to  her  bosom 
a  man  whom  she  would  regard,  in  such  a  case,  as  a  betrayer 
of  her  love,  as  well  as  a  sinner  against  God  !  I  tell  you 
that  if  the  universe  was  rocking  on  its  foundation  stone, 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  71 

and  such  a  husband  was  presented  to  her,  with  the  assurance 
that  the  mere  answer,  'I  will,'  to  the  query  of  the  minis- 
ter, would  save  it  from  annihilation,  she  would  clasp  her 
hands,  commend  her  soul  to  God,  and  wait  for  the  shock  in 
silence.  But,  pshaw  !  what  is  the  use  of  allowing  myself 
to  get  impatient!  You  know,  Tobe,"  he  continued  coax- 
ingly,  "  as  well  as  I  do,  that  I  am  speaking  truth.  You 
never  could  have  won  her  love  if  you  had  not  appreciated 
her  principles.  Give  it  up  at  once,  like  a  good  and  brave 
fellow  as  you  are.     You  must  come  to  it." 

"Never  !  never  will  I  consent  that  any  man,  and  you  the 
last  of  all  men,  should  encounter  the  peril,  and  incur  the 
guilt,  which  by  right  belongs  to  me,  and  me  alone.  I  will 
give  up  your  sister's  love,  though  in  doing  so  I  give  up 
heaven,  and  go  forth  an  avenger,  all  the  more  dangerous 
and  merciless,  because  no  hope  is  left  him,  either  here  or 
hereafter." 

"  Poor  fellow  !  from  my  soul  I  pity  you,  and  I  would  to 
God  that  I  could  save  you  from  the  struggle  now  going  on 
in  your  bosom.  I  wish  I  could  save  my  sister,  too,  for  she 
also  will  have  a  fearful  trial.  But  we  are  in  the  meshes  of 
fate,  and  must  each  fulfill  the  part  assigned  us.  If  you  go 
and  tell  my  sister  that  you  intend  to  kill  those  wretches,  she 
will  forbid  it,  and  you  will  obey  her ;  for  you  can  no  more 
look  into  her  eyes  and  say  no  to  any  request  of  hers,  than 
you  can  leap  to  the  top  of  yonder  mountain.  If  you  kill 
them,  or  any  one  of  them,  without  telling  her  your  purpose 
beforehand,  you  may  calculate  that  she  will  break  off  your 
engagement,  and  that  will  kill  her,  and  you  too,  and  go  a 
long  way  toward  killing  me,  for  although  my  heart  is  a 
pretty  tough  one,  I  don't  think  I  should  ever  be  good  for 
much  after  laying  your  heads  in  the  grave.  The  only  thing 
you  can  do  is  to  let  them  alone." 

"  But  will  vou  let  them  alone  also  ?" 


72  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

"  Not  I  I  If  I  did,  in  the  first  place,  you  would  lose  your 
revenge,  which  I  have  no  mind  to  balk  you  in.  In  the 
second  place,  I  have  a  strong  suspicion  that  if  I  did,  Tho- 
mas Rogers,  Sr.,  would  some  day  before  long  be  served 
just  the  same  way  your  grandfather  was.  Therefore  I 
shall  not  let  them  alone  1" 

"  Bat  if  r??!/ taking  the  law  into  my  own  hands  be  so  ter- 
rible, why  should  not  the  same  consequences  follow  from 
your  doing  so  ?  Will  the  act  not  be  as  much  reprehended 
by  your  sister  when  committed  by  you,  as  it  would  be  if 
committed  by  me?  Will  not  the  consequences  be  the  same 
at  last  ?•' 

"By  no  means !  She  does  not  love  me  as  a  husband  but 
as  a  brother.  To  that  tie  she  is  not  called  on  to  say  yes 
or  no.  It  is  one  which  nature  has  made  for  us.  She  will 
be  shocked,  mortified,  and  terribly  hurt,  I  know  that.  But 
she  will  forgive  me  soon.  So  she  would  forgive  you.  The 
terms,  however,  will  be  separation.  To  you  that  would  be 
death,  to  me  very  different ;  and,  as  I  should  have  you  here, 
with  a  husband's  rights,  to  plead  for  me,  I  think  I  may  cal- 
culate upon  an  early  restoration  to  favor." 

The  absorbing  nature  of  their  conversation  had  prevented 
the  young  men  from  observing  that  they  were  in  nearly 
total  darkness.  There  was  a  kind  of  red  glow  cast  by  the 
dying  embers  through  the  room,  and  sitting  where  they  were, 
close  to  the  hearth,  their  shapes,  though  not  their  features, 
were  visible  to  each  other.  Just  as  Rogers  concluded  the 
last  sentence  above  quoted,  two  rifle  shots  rang  sharply  from 
the  base  of  the  mountain,  and  rolled  up  its  sides.  Spring- 
ing to  their  feet,  their  rifles  were  in  their  hands  in  an  in- 
stant, and  taking  opposite  sides  of  the  room  they  listened 
keenly.  The  dogs,  which  had  been  lying  in  the  passage, 
rushed  toward  the  outer  fence  with  furious  barking.  This 
served  them  to  good  purpose,  for  it  pointed  out  the  exact 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  73 

spot  from  which  the  firing  had  taken  place.  Directly  they 
heard  a  yelping  among  the  dogs,  which  showed  that  one  of 
them  had  been  stricken,  most  likely  with  a  stone.  Wilson 
was  satisfied  that  the  attention  of  those  who  had  fired  the 
shots  would  be  occupied  for  several  minutes  by  the  dogs, 
and,  walking  over  to  Rogers,  he  said: 

"Let  us  leave  here.  They  are  too  busy  with  the  dogs, 
and  it  is  too  dark  for  them  to  see  us.  We  will  get  out 
where  we  may  have  a  fair  chance,  or  rather  where  all  the 
chances  will  be  in  our  favor,  since  we  know  their  where- 
abouts and  they  will  know  nothing  of  ours." 

In  the  daytime  the  more  prudent  course  would  have  been 
to  remain  within  the  shelter  of  the  cabins,  but  this  was  re- 
versed at  night.  Then,  no  matter  whether  they  wished 
to  seek  safety  by  flight  from  overpowering  odds,  or  pre- 
pare to  do  battle  with  equal,  or  nearly  equal  numbers,  it 
was  the  dictate  of  prudence  to  get  into  the  open  air  as 
speedily  as  possible.  Tobias  Wilson  and  his  grandfather 
had  often  discussed  this  point,  and  weighing  well  every 
possible  contingency,  had  deliberately  planned  the  mode  of 
defense  to  be  adopted  in  each  separate  case. 

"  We  must  not  separate,  Tom,"  whispered  Wilson,  as 
leaving  the  house  by  a  side  door,  they  moved  stealthily  but 
swiftly  toward  an  angle  of  the  fence  which  commanded 
both  the  cabins  and  the  stables.  "Keep  close  to  me,  or 
we  may  get  to  shooting  each  other  in  the  dark." 

The  noise  made  by  the  dogs  had  changed  a  little,  and 
was  now  nearer  the  house,  showing  that  the  assailants,  who- 
ever they  were,  had  no  idea  of  flight,  but  were  cautiously 
approaching.  About  the  same  time  the  lights  gleaming 
through  the  cracks  in  his  grandfather's  room  attracted  the 
attention  of  Wilson. 

"  We  have  had  a  narrow  escape,  Tom,  and  those  lights 
have  probably  saved  our  lives,"  whispered  he  to  his  com- 

7* 


74  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

panion.  "  On  the  other  side  of  the  house  there  is  a  win- 
dow, which  I  left  open  when  we  lighted  the  candles.  On 
the  slope  of  the  mountain  from  which  the  firing  came, 
everything  in  that  room  would  be  visible  through  the  open 
window.  They  have  seen  the  dead  body  on  the  bed,  and 
supposing  that  he  was  merely  asleep,  have  fired  at  it.  What 
surprises  them  now,  and  makes  them  approach  so  cautiously, 
is  that  they  hear  no  outcry  from  my  mother.  In  a  short 
time  they  will  suppose  she  is  absent,  and  will  approach  more 
boldly.  Now  let  us  move  our  position  to  where  we  can 
command  the  window.  We  will  get  a  shot  before  long, 
depend  on  it." 

As  they  moved  around  the  fence  to  a  point  within  twenty 
yards  of  the  open  window,  Wilson  made  his  comrade  ob- 
serve every  obstruction  or  inequality  in  the  path,  and  pointed 
out  the  place  where  a  branch  pathway  led  across  the  little 
stream  to  the  road. 

''By  this  path,"  he  said,  still  speaking  in  whispers,  "it  is 
not  more  than  fifteen  yards  to  the  spring  branch.  If  they 
have  tied  their  horses  about  the  stable,  as  I  think  they  have, 
for  the  greater  convenience  of  carrying  off  ours,  they  must 
ride  over  a  hundred  yards  before  they  can  reach  this  point, 
and  we  shall  have  no  trouble  in  intercepting  their  retreat." 

They  had  now  reached  a  part  of  the  fence  which  was  built 
upon  a  small  ledge  of  rocks,  some  three  feet  high.  By  sitting 
down  behind  this  ledge,  they  had  before  them  an  impenetra- 
ble natural  breastwork,  just  high  enough  to  enable  them  to 
rest  their  pieces  on  the  lower  rails  of  the  fence.  They  placed 
themselves,  as  before,  so  as  to  be  able  to  fire  from  adjoin- 
ing panels  of  the  fence.  One  of  the  dogs  had  run  yelping 
away,  apparently  badly  hurt;  the  other  still  kept  up  a 
continuous  barking,  but  was  "fighting  shy."  Pretty  soon 
a  rock  or  some  other  missile  struck  him,  and  he  too  sought 
protection  under  the  cabin.     All  this  had  not  occupied 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  75 

raore  than  three  or  four  minutes,  and  the  two  watchers 
drew  their  breath  hard,  for  they  knew  the  time  for  action 
was  at  hand.  They  were  in  full  view  of  the  window,  from 
which  a  strong  light  was  calmly  streaming.  Directly  a 
dark  object  could  be  discerned  moving  on  the  outer  edge 
of  the  light.  Then  another.  They  were  evidently  puz- 
zled, and  came  on  slowly  and  cautiously.  Taking  a  few 
steps  farther  forward,  they  halted  and  held  a  brief  consulta- 
tion, then  advanced  directly  to  the  window.  One  of  them 
laid  his  hand  upon  the  sill,  and  looked  in.  Now  was  the 
time.  Two  rifle  shots,  in  quick  succession,  rang  upon  the 
still  night  air.  One  of  the  marauders  fell  heavily  to  the 
ground;  the  other  discharged  his  gun  in  the  direction  of 
the  ambushed  party,  and  then  bounded  toward  the  stable. 

"Quick!"  said  Wilson.     "Load  quick,  Tom;   we  shall 
catch  him  at  the  spring  branch." 

To  men  who  had  been  accustomed  to  the  use  of  the 
rifle  from  the  time  they  were  able  to  raise  it  to  their  shoul- 
ders, and  who  in  their  pursuit  of  game,  and  in  encounters 
with  the  bears  and  panthers  which  infested  that  wild  re- 
gion, had  often  found  celerity  of  loading  essential  to  the 
preservation  of  life  itself,  this  was  an  operation  which  oc- 
cupied scarcely  a  moment  of  time.  Besides,  on  the  pres- 
ent occasion,  they  had  anticipated  its  probable  necessity, 
and  everything  was  in  readiness.  Their  guns  were  loaded, 
and  they  were  within  ten  feet  of  the  point  Wilson  had  desig- 
nated, before  they  heard  the  clatter  of  a  horse's  feet  at  full 
speed  coming  down  the  road.  "Let  him  pass,"  said  Wil- 
son, "before  you  fire.  The  road  here  runs  nearly  straight 
for  forty  or  fifty  yards.  We  can  hardly  miss  him  if  we  fire 
right  down  it."     . 

On  came  the  horseman  at  reckless  speed.  lie  passed 
unconsciously  within  a  few  feet  of  his  ambushed  foes. 
Again  the  guns  were  raised  to  their  shoulders,  and  again 


76  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

the  quick,  sharp,  deadly  report  of  the  Kentucky  rifle  echoed 
in  the  valley  and  rolled  upwards  along  the  mountain  side. 
For  a  few  bounds  the  rider  kept  his  seat,  then  reeled  in 
the  saddle,  dropped  the  bridle,  clutched  at  the  mane  of  his 
hors3,  missed  it,  and  fell  heavily  to  the  ground. 

"I  think,"  said  Rogers,  reloading  his  gun,  "that  we 
have  done  for  them  both ;  though  this  fellow  isn't  dead 
yet.  I  hear  him  groaning.  Go  to  the  house,  Tobe  ;  I 
guess  you  will  find  that  other  fellow's  horse  hitched  to  the 
fence.  Bring  him  down,  for  I  have  no  idea  of  toting  yon- 
der carrion  on  my  shoulders.  In  the  mean  time  I'll  just 
walk  ap  ixwi  ask  him  what  hurt  him." 

Thom&s  Rogers  spoke  lightly  and  recklessly,  but  he  did 
not  act  ic  the  same  manner.  He  crossed  the  spring 
branch,  and  proceeded  cautiously  on  the  opposite  side 
from  the  road.  The  banks  were  almost  everywhere  high 
and  steep,  and  he  had  no  difficulty  in  keeping  pretty  well 
under  cover.  He  thought  the  fallen  man  might  be  only 
slightly  wounded,  and  if  so  he  would  seek  to  revenge  him- 
self for  the  injury  he  had  received  upon  the  first  one  who 
approached  him.  He  knew  that  these  marauders  always 
carried  their  pistols  belted  about  the  person,  which  made 
it  improbable  that  it  would  be  lost  in  falling.  When  im- 
mediately opposite  the  spot  from  which  the  groans  pro- 
ceeded, he  leaped  over  the  narrow  branch,  and,  sheltering 
himself  by  the  high  bank,  said  in  an  ordinary  tone  of  voice  : 

"Who  are  you,  and  what's  the  matter?" 

"Water!"  gasped  the  wounded  man;  "for  God's  sake 
give  me  water!" 

"But  who  are  you?" 

"James  Miller,  Sergeant  — th  Tennessee  Cavalry.  Wa- 
ter !  water  !     Will  you  let  me  die  of  thirst  ?" 

Satisfied  that  no  danger  was  to  be  apprehended,  Rogers 
now  leaped  over  the  bank  and  approached  him,  saying  as 
he  did  so : 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  77 

"Give  me  your  cap." 

The  wounded  man  raised  his  hand  toward  his  head,  but 
let  it  fall  with  a  cry  of  pain. 

"I  can't;  take  it,  and  be  quick." 

Rogers  attempted  to  do  so,  but  it  was  fastened  under 
the  chin  to  prevent  it  from  falling  off,  either  in  flight  or 
pursuit. 

Kneeling  down  to  unloose  it,  he  bethought  him  of  the 
pistol,  and  instantly  laid  his  hand  upon  it. 

"I'll  just  appropriate  this  article  first.  You  may  be  a 
very  good  fellow,  but  I  have  heard  of  men  who  were 
repaid  with  a  bullet  through  the  brains  for  just  such  serv- 
ices as  I  am  about  to  render  you." 

The  wounded  man  made  no  reply.  The  water  was 
brought,  and  he  drank  greedily.  Then  drawing  a  long 
sigh,  he  murmured,  "Oh!  how  sweet!"  It  was  probably 
the  first  time  in  years  that  pure  element  would  not  have 
been  exchanged  by  him  for  a  more  fiery  liquid.  "Please 
give  me  some  more."  It  had  been  many  a  day  since  that 
word  "please"  had  passed  his  lips;  and  never  before  to  a 
Union  man  and  a  civilian.  Another  capful  was  brought, 
and  greedily  swallowed.  By  this  time  Tobias  Wilson  had 
come  up  with  the  horse. 

"Where  are  you  hurt?"  he  asked. 

"My  leg  is  broken  and  my  shoulder  is  badly  hurt ;  but  I 
do  not  know  whether  it  was  from  a  bullet  or  by  the  fall." 

"  Can  you  ride,  with  one  of  us  to  walk  by  and  hold  you 
on?" 

"I'm  afraid  not;  but  if  you  will  lift  me  up,  I'll  try." 

He  was  lifted  on  the  horse's  back,  and  carried  to  the 
house  with  but  little  trouble.  One  of  the  candles  was 
brought  from  Mr.  Johnson's  room,  and  the  wounded  man 
deposited  in  the  kitchen.  They  then  went  out  and  brought 
in  the  body  which  was  lying  under  the  window.     He  was 


78  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

dead.  While  they  were  straightening  and  composing  his 
limbs  on  the  floor,  and  examining  the  wounds  which  had 
sent  him  to  his  long  account,  the  wounded  prisoner,  who 
was  also  h'ing  on  a  blanket  in  another  part  of  the  room, 
considerably  strengthened  and  refreshed  by  a  hearty  draught 
of  brandy  from  a  flask  in  his  haversack,  indulged  himself 
in  a  muttered  commentary  on  all  he  saw  and  heard.  His 
first  exclamation  after  the  body  was  brought  in  was  : 

"He's  as  dead  as  a  door  nail." 

As  the  examination  progressed,  his  comments  were  mut- 
tered from  time  to  time  somewhat  in  the  following  strain : 

"Hit  in  the  head,  and  shot  through  under  the  left  arm  ! 
He  never  kicked;  he  couldn't  have  felt  it,  that's  some  com- 
fort. Poor  Bob!  he  was  as  true  a  comrade  as  ever  went 
out  foraging,  and  now  he's  gone;  and  Tom  Simmons  be- 
fore him,  and  I'm  laid  up  to  dry.  It'll  be  six  months  be- 
fore I  can  ride  a  horse  again,  even  if  these  fellows  don't 
hang  me,  or  turn  me  over  to  them  as  will.  I  wonder  who 
it  was  we  shot  at  in  t'other  room !  They  seem  to  be 
mighty  easy  about  him,  and  yet  I'll  bet  my  revolver  to  a 
one  dollar  Con-fed  note,  that  he's  got  two  three-quarter 
ounce  balls  through  him.  They've  not  said  a  word  about 
him,  and  I'm  thinking  it  would'nt  be  exactly  prudent  for 
me  to  broach  the  subject." 

By  this  time  Bob  Jenkins  (for  it  was  he)  had  been  de- 
cently laid  out  on  the  floor,  and  a  counterpane  spread  over 
him.     The  two  friends  now  approached  the  prisoner. 

"Let  us  see  what  we  can  do  for  you,  sir,"  said  Rogers  ; 
"for  although  you  deserve  to  have  been  left  like  a  dog  on 
the  road,  we  must  not  let  you  su9"er  any  more  than  we  can 
help." 

"You  may  begin  with  this,"  he  replied,  coolly  enough, 
though  he  must  have  been  sutferiug  greatly,  and  pointing 
at  the  same  time  to  his  left  leg. 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  79 

A  straw  mattress  was  taken  from  under  the  bed,  his 
clothes  were  stripped  off,  and  he  was  laid  upon  it.  A 
basin  of  water  and  some  towels  were  placed  on  the  floor. 
Two  other  candles  were  lighted  and  set  down,  one 'on  each 
side  of  him,  Rogers  washed  away  the  clotted  blood  as 
carefully  as  if  tending  a  friend.  He  saw  at  once  that  the 
bone  was  badly  shattered,  about  three  inches  below  the 
knee. 

"  We  can  do  nothing  here,  Tobe,  but  bind  it  up  and  wait 
for  Dr.  GrifiBn  to-morrow.  This  must  have  been  my  ball. 
Yours  is  not  large  enough  to  have  shattered  this  bone  so 
effectually." 

"True  enough,"  said  Wilson,  stooping  down  and  exam- 
ining the  wounded  limb.  "  How  are  we  to  bind  it  up?  It 
is  an  awkward  place  to  bandage." 

"  I  saw  Dr.  Griffin  do  up  a  fracture  of  this  sort  once, 
and  I  think  I  can  manage  it  after  a  fashion,  if  you  happen 
to  have  such  a  thing  as  a  pasteboard  in  the  house." 

"  Yes,  there  is.  My  mother  bought  one  not  long  ago 
to  make  a  sun-bonnet,  but  did  not  use  it,  thinking  her  old 
one  would  last  through  the  summer."* 

"  Then  get  it.  Get  also  an  old  sheet  to  make  a  band- 
age." 

When  the  pasteboard  and  sheet  were  produced,  Rogers 
directed  his  friend  to  cut  off  two  wide  slips  of  the  paste- 
board, about  eight  inches  in  length,  so  as  to  extend  above 
and  below  the  knee,  while  he  himself  tore  off,  and  made  a 

*  It  is  very  common  in  the  mountains,  where  people  cannot  go  to 
a  store  for  every  little  thing  they  need,  to  keep  always  on  hand 
articles  of  this  sort,  for  household  use.  The  farmers,  too,  will 
often  purchase  and  put  away  articles  they  do  not  expect  to  use  for 
months.  Thus  many  things  of  convenience  or  necessity  are  fre- 
quently to  be  found  in  cabins  where  no  one  would  look  for  them, — * 
a  circumstance  which  the  reader  may  have  occasion  to  notice  sev- 
eral times  in  these  pages. 


80  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

roll  of  bandage  of  sufficient  length.  Beginning  at  the  toe, 
he  bandaged  the  foot  and  ankle  up  to  the  place  to  which 
he  wished  the  pasteboard  to  extend.  Then  applying  the 
pasteboard  on  each  side  of  the  fractured  limb,  he  continued 
his  bandaging  process  until  it  extended  high  enough  above 
the  knee  to  render  the  joint  immovable,  remarking  as  he 
did  so : 

"It  is  like  enough  that  I  may  have  more  of  this  sort  of 
work  to  do,  and  I  may  as  well  get  my  hand  in." 

The  other  wound  was  through  the  right  shoulder,  where 
bandaging  was  out  of  the  question;  but  he  managed  to 
fasten  a  bat  of  cotton  tolerably  securely  on  the  orifice 
where  the  ball  entered,  and  another  where  it  came  out. 
Then  arranging  his  patient  as  comfortably  as  possible  on  a 
straw  mattress,  he  proposed  to  Wilson  that  they  should  get 
some  wood  and  make  a  fire. 

"This  fellow,"  he  said,  "has  lost  blood  enough  to  make 
him  feel  a  little  chilly,  and  I  want  to  question  him  when 
he  is  quite  at  his  ease.  I  suppose  there  is  no  further  dan- 
ger of  being  shot  at  to-night.  At  all  events,  we  can  make 
all  safe  by  closing  doors  and  windows.  It  cannot  now  be 
very  far  from  daylight." 

A  cheerful  fire  was  soon  made,  and  Rogers,  seating  him- 
self with  the  air  of  a  Supreme  Court  Judge,  began  his  ex- 
amination. 

"I  think  I  know  you,  Mr.  Sergeant  Miller." 

"If  you  live  in  these  parts,  it's  like  enough;  though  I 
don't  remember  you.     I  was  raised  in  seven  miles  of  here. " 

'^Your  father  is  a  Baptist?" 

"Yes,  sir;  do  you  know  him?'' 

"No;  but  I  have  heard  of  him  as  one  of  Parson  Ben 
Williams's  flock  of  lambs.     He  is  a  special  pet  of  the  Par- 
•son's,  I  believe, — one  of  the  chosen  vessels." 

"  Not  by  a  darned  sight.     Dad  is  a  Union  man,  and  old 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  81 

Ben  thinks  that's  the  next  worst  thing  to  bein'  a  Method- 
ist. Dad  belongs  to  his  church ;  bat  there's  no  love  lost 
between  them,  'specially  when  they  gits  on  politics." 

"Ah  !  then  how  came  you  in  the  Confederate  army?" 

"That's  easy  told;  but  if  you  mean  to  ax  me  many 
questions,  you  must  give  me  some  more  brandy.  I'm 
mighty  weak." 

The  flask  and  a  cup  of  water  were  handed  him. 

"  Never  mind  the  water.  I  never  spiles  good  liquor  by 
weakening  it,  and  this  is  good.  It  come  from  Gen.  Har- 
dee's own  jug."  He  took  a  drink  of  raw  spirit  from  the 
flask,  and  laid  it  on  the  bed  beside  him. 

"Jest  leave  this  here,  so  I  can  take  a  sip  as  I  needs  it, 
and  then  drive  on  with  your  questions, — I'm  ready." 

"I  asked  you  how  it  happened  that  you,  the  son  of  a 
Union  man,  (and  one  who  must  be  a  true  one,  to  have 
stood  out  against  his  church,)  should  be  in  the  Confed- 
erate army." 

"'Cause  dad  never  took  no  papers  but  Parson  Graves's 
Baptist  paper  at  Nashville,  and  hit  was  so  keen  to  save 
our  souls,  hit  forgot  to  tell  us  of  danger  to  our  bodies." 

"I  am  afraid  I  don't  understand  you.  What  do  you 
mean  ?" 

"  Well,  you  see,  Parson  Graves  never  gived  us  no  infor- 
mation about  the  Conscript  Act  of  Congress,  and  as  I  had 
never  heered  anything  about  it,  I  was  glad  when  mammy 
axed  me  to  take  a  meal  bag  full  of  bacon  over  to  Winches- 
ter, where  we  heerd  the  soldiers  would  swap  sugar  for  it. 
Well,  I  got  there  and  made  the  swap, — a  pretty  good  one 
as  I  thought,  for  we  had  a  plenty  of  meat,  and  was  afeered 
the  soldiers  would  find  it  out  and  take  it  from  us,  as  dad 
was  suspected  of  being  disloyal  to  the  Confederacy.  After 
that  I  went  to  buy  two  quart  bottles  of  brandy  for  dad, 
which  he  had  charged  me  partickler  to  get  good.     Old 

8 


82  TOBIAS     WILSON.. 

Ben  Grimes  showed  me  a  sutler's  store  where  he  said  I 
could  get  the  best  '  old  peach'  in  the  State.  The  store  was 
full  of  people  buying  everything  they  could  see.  When  I 
axed  the  feller  for  the  'old  peach,'  he  looked  as  black  as 
thunder,  and  said  he'd  give  me  to  understand  he  was  a 
law-abiding  man,  and  if  I  wanted  to  buy  forbidden  things 
I  must  go  somewhere  else."  (Here  Sergeant  Miller  took  a 
sip  from  his  flask.)  "I  went  out  mad  as  a  hornet  at  old 
Ben  Grimes  for  fooling  me  in  such  a  fashion,  and  when  I 
found  him  I  began  to  curse  him  black  and  blue.  At  first 
he  didn't  know  what  was  the  matter,  but  when  he  under- 
stood the  thing,  instead  of  trying  to  knock  me  down  he 
burst  out  laughing.  'Why,  you  great  goose,'  he  said, 
'what  else  could  you  expect  when  you  axed  for  'old  peach' 
with  a  store  full  of  people  ?  Come  with  me.  Ill  fix  it, 
for  I  likes  your  daddy,  and  I'm  sorter  dry  myself.'  When 
the  feller  seed  me  come  back  with  old  Grimes  he  under- 
stood it  all  in  a  minute.  'Well,  my  young  one,'  he  said 
mighty  perlite,  'what  will  you  have?'  Old  Grimes  put  in, 
*  He  wants  some  doctor's  stuff,  Mr.  Murray,  his  mammy's 

got  the  di-ar-ree,  and  them  d d  Yankees  has  busted  all 

the  'pothecary  shops.  Aint  you  got  something  that'll  do 
the  old  ooman  good?'  'Of  course  I  has.  It's  a  mighty 
common  complaint  among  the  soldiers,  and  I  always  makes 
it  a  pint  to  have  a  good  lot  on  hand.  But  it  aint  here; 
wait  a  minit.  Tom  will  be  in  directly  to  tend  the  store, 
and  I'll  go  to  the  warehouse  with  you.'  Tom  was  not  far 
off.  I  found  out  afterwards  that  he  never  was  on  such 
occasions.  Throwing  the  bag  with  the  bottles  on  my 
shoulder,  me  and  Murray  and  Grimes  went  over  to  what 
had  been  the  smoke-house  of  the  old  tavern.  He  opened 
the  door,  and  following  us  in  locked  it  on  the  inside.  We 
had  a  heap  of  chat,  and  took  several  drinks  round  before  I 
would  agree  to  give  his   price,   (four   dollars  a  quart.) 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  _       83 

Finally,  he  agreed  to  fling  in  a  pint  flask,  and  fill  it  for  my 
own  private  use.  But  he  charged  me  partickler  never  to 
tell  no  one  how  cheap  he  had  let  me  have  it.  I  know'd  he 
was  a  swindling  rae,  but  I  didn't  let  on.  The  fact  is,  I  was 
bought  up  by  that  pint  flask  and  the  loilliin.  I  had  never 
had  so  much  liquor  before  in  my  life.  Murray  locked  his 
door  and  went  off  to  the  store,  but  old  Ben  Grimes  stuck 
to  me  like  a  leech.  I  thought  he  wanted  some  of  my 
liquor,  and  instead  of  letting  him  keep  me  in  town,  I 
hurried  off  quicker  than  I  meant  to  do.  He  had  sent  a 
runner  for  a  conscript  officer,  and  was  trying  to  keep  me 
'till  he  come.  But  he  didn't.  I  saw  he  was  nearly  crazy 
to  keep  me  in  town,  and  I  was  determined  not  to  be  kept; 
not  that  I  suspected  him  of  having  anything  to  do  with 
conscription,  for  I  didn't  know  the  meaning  of  the  word, 
but  I  suspected  him  of  wanting  to  drink  my  liquor.  So  I 
mounted,  and  rode  off  in  a  trot.  When  I  got  home,  dad 
and  the  old  woman  were  so  well  pleased  with  my  sugar 
trade,  that  they  overlooked  the  liquor  business,  especially 
as  the  brandy  was  really  very  good,  and  dad  was  furnished 
with  an  excuse  for  shortening  my  allowance.  It  was  late, 
and  by  the  time  me  and  the  old  man  had  fed  the  stock,  the 
gals  and  my  little  brothers  come  in  from  work.  I  was  the 
oldest  of  the  family.  The  three  next  to  me  were  girls  and 
the  other  two  boys.  I  was  then  just  twenty.  All  the 
heavy  work  was  done  by  dad  and  me.  The  old  woman 
cooked,  and  on  washing  days  my  oldest  sister  helped  her. 
Besides,  she  always  carae  to  the  house  a  little  earlier  than 
the  others  in  the  evening,  to  milk,  bringing  my  younger 
brother  with  her  to  help  keep  off  the  calves,  while  she 
milked  the  cows.  We  were  all  healthy  and  willing  to 
work,  and  were  getting  along  in  the  world  contentedly  and 
well.  We  had  prayers  every  night,  and  if  they  did  me  no 
good  at  the  time  or  since,  it  was  not  dad's  fault.     I  believe 


84  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

that  I  should  have  been  a  good,  sober,  industrious  man,  as 
dad  is.  He  loves  his  dram,  and  takes  it  regular  in  his 
family ;  but  he  is  honest,  hardworking,  and  religious,  and 
never  lets  the  liquor  git  ahead  of  him.     I  believe  I  should 

have  been  too,  if  this  d d  war  hadn't  come  along, 

busting  up  everything,  making  men  who  were  tolerably 
well  oif,  poor,  and  poor  men,  beggars;  making  honest  men, 
thieves,  and  kind-hearted  human  beings,  blood-thirsty  pan- 
thers.    I  wish  the  men  who  brought  it  on  were  in  the  bot- 
tom of  hell,  and  Jeff.  Davis  the  lowest  of  the  lot."     (After 
this  outburst  he  took  another  sip  from  the  flask,  and  re- 
sumed.)    "But  to  go  on  with  my  story.     The  children 
came  in  and  dad  made  a  sweetened  dram  for  them  all 
round,  when  we  sat  down  to  supper  in  the  best  kind  of 
humor.     The  little  ones  vrere  still  eating,  and  the  old  wo- 
man was  scolding  them  and  helping  them  by  turns,  when 
we  heard  the  tramp  of  horses'  feet,  and  the  jingle  of  cavalry 
spurs  and  sabres.     It  was  an  unwelcome  soyind,  but  none 
of  us  had  the  least  idea  of  what  it  portended.     It  was  a 
conscript  officer  with  a  party  of  five,  a  corporal  and  four 
privates.     Old  Ben  Grimes  had  put  them  on  my  track. 
They  had  a  led  horse  which  they  had  pressed  on  the  way, 
and  I  was  hurried  off  with  the  corporal  and  two  men,  while 
the  officer  with  two  others  remained  to  take  supper.     Dad 
seized  the  chance  and  pleaded,  and  pleaded  in  vain.     He 
told  him  our  fix, — that  there  was  no  one  but  me  capa- 
ble of  doing  a  good  day's  work.     He  pointed  to  the  help- 
less children  huddled  in  a  corner,  to  his  own  gray  hairs, 
and  told  him  that  they  must  come  to  want  if  I  was  taken 
away  from  them ;  but  it  did  no  good.     The  d d  hypo- 
crite pretended  to  be  affected  even  to  tears,  but  his  duty 
was  imperative,  he  had  no  discretion.    What  could  he  do  ? 
The  Government  was  just  at  this  time  in  the  greatest  need 
of  men,  and  Gen.  Bragg  would  take  no  excuse  for  any  lax 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  85 

enforcement  of  the  conscript  law.  He  had  private  advices 
from  Richmond,  which  was  carefully  kept  out  of  the  pa- 
pers, and  only  entrusted  to  confidential  officers  like  him- 
self, that  Gen.  Lee  was  preparing  to  strike  a  blow  that 
would  astonish  the  world.  In  three  months  Washington 
would  be  ours,  and  the  war  over.  His  son,  that  is  me, 
would  then  come  back  to  him  covered  with  glory,  and  all 
the  girls  in  the  county  would  be  envying  my  sisters.  To 
all  this,  got  by  heart,  and  repeated  a  hundred  times  before, 
dad  made  no  reply.  He  was  not  fooled  in  the  least,  but 
he  saw  it  was  useless  and  said  nothing.  That's  the  way, 
sir,  I  came  to  be  in  the  Confederate  army."* 

"And  did  you  stay  in  that  army  willingly  after  such 
treatment  as  you  have  described  ?" 

"  Surely  not !  I  was  outrageous  at  first.  I  beat  old 
Ben  Grimes  until  every  bone  in  his  body  was  sore.  This 
brought  on  punishment,  and  then  I  was  closely  watched. 
I  was  sent  away  to  East  Tennessee  and  drafted  into  a  cav- 
alry regiment.  By  degrees  I  began  to  like  my  associates. 
I  found  that  most  of  them  were  fellow-victims.  Then 
there  was  attraction  in  the  constant  excitement ;  the  li- 
cense which  is  always  allowed  to  the  cavalry  soldier  in  the 
Confederacy,  had  its  charms.  From  being  only  endurable, 
it  became  pleasant,  and  I  remained  from  choice  where  I  had 
been  placed  by  force.  I  would  have  deserted  any  hour  of 
the  first  two  months  and  joined  the  Yankees.  I  have  had 
hundreds  of  chances  since,  but  I  did  not  go  nor  think  of 
going.  I  don't  know  how  it  may  be  hereafter,  for  I  am 
likely  to  have  a  long  time  for  reflection,  and  I  have  never 

*  The  main  facts  here  stated  are  literally  true.  Hundreds  of  just 
such  cases  may  be  easily  gathered  up.  Nay  more,  every  county  in 
the  South  has  its  list  of  victims  to  the  conscription,  and  there  is 
not  one  in  which  cases  more  infamous  than  this  may  not  be  found. 

8* 


86  TOBIAS     AVILSON. 

yet  knowed  reflection  to  do  the    Confederate   cause  any- 
good." 

"You  are  right  in  that,  at  least," said  Rogers;  "but  tell 
me,  did  your  family  suffer,  as  you  expected,  for  the  want  of 
your  assistance?" 

"No  !  But  that  was  no  fault  of  the  Confederacy  or  its 
officers.  They  did  nothing  to  avert  the  suffering  which 
dad  and  I  looked  for  in  the  family.  But  I  came  back  from 
East  Tennessee  comparatively  rich.  I  had  my  pockets  full 
of  Confederate  money.  I  had  over  two  hundred  dollars  in 
State  bank  notes,  and  nearly  fifty  dollars  in  gold.  I  gave 
it  all  to  dad,  except  about  a  hundred  dollars  in  Con-fed. 
But  I  didnH  tell  him  how  I  got  it.  I  told  him  to  use  the 
Con-fed  money  in  hiring  help,  but  to  save  the  State  money 
and  the  gold,  and  never  spend  it  under  any  circumstances. 
I  said  I  wanted  the  gold  for  a  wedding  gift  for  my  youngest 
sister,  Lilly,  and  the  State  money  to  educate  the  boys  when- 
ever a  time  came  in  this  country  that  a  school  could  be 
opened.  When  I  came  back  from  Gen.  Bragg's  raid  into 
Kentucky,  I  brought  a  hundred  and  eighty-two  and  a 
half  dollars  in  gold,  five  hundred  dollars  in  greenbacks, 
fifty  dollars  in  Kentucky,  and  seventy-five  dollars  in  Ten- 
nessee bank  notes.  Besides  five  thousand  dollars  in  Con- 
fed,  which  I  gave  to  dad,  and  had  more  than  enough  to  do 
me  besides.  I  told  him  to  keep  it  all  safe  for  various  uses 
which  I  pretended  I  wanted  to  put  it  to  hereafter,  except 
the  Con-fed,  which  he  could  use  as  he  pleased.  But,  in 
truth,  I  only  wanted  to  be  certain  that  he  and  the  wimen  folks 
and  little  ones  had  a  good  'nest egg,'  if  I  should  happen  to 
get  knocked  in  the  head,  or  meet  with  some  such  acci- 
dent as  this  of  to-night.  It  was  more  money  than  he  had 
ever  seed,  and  I  had  some  trouble  to  make  him  believe  that 
I  came  by  it  honestly.  But  he  did  give  in,  and  put  away 
the  funds  for  safe  keeping,  and  pocketed  the  Con-fed,  when, 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  87 

if  he  had  known  the  truth,  he  would  have  burned  it  before 
my  face,  and  driven  me  from  his  doors.'' 

"What  is  the  truth,  pray  ?  That  is,  if  you  have  no  ob- 
jection to  telling  me.  I  suppose  I  know,  but  I  had  rather 
hear  it  from  your  own  lips." 

"I  should  have  objected  yesterday.  But  a  man  feels 
very  different  with  a  broken  leg  and  a  bullet  through  his 
shoulder  to  what  he  does  when  in  strong  health,  and 
mounted  on  a  splendid  horse.  I  feel  sorter  as  if  it  would 
be  a  relief  to  me  to  tell.  I  got  every  dollar  of  that  money, 
and  a  good  deal  more  which  I  now  have,  and  a  lot  which 
is  quilted  in  my  saddle,  by  stealing  and  robbing.  Stealing 
money  when  I  could,  and  when  I  couldn't  find  money, 
taking  watches,  horses,  mules,  and  everything  else  that 
would  sell.  I  sold  one  horse  I  stole  in  Kentucky  for  two 
thousand  dollars,  one-half  in  Con-fed  and  the  other  half  in 
State  money." 

"You  seem  to  have  made  your  conscription  profitable  in 
the  money  line  at  least." 

"Yes  !  but  I  lost  character,  honor,  humanity  itself.  I'm 
a  d — n — d  brute  !  Leastways  I  would  be,  if  I  did  not  sort 
of  reconcile  the  thing  to  my  conscience  by  thinking  that  the 
old  man  and  the  old  woman  would  have  been  in  the  poor- 
house,  and  the  children,  God  knows  where,  but  for  my  rob- 
beries !" 

"That  is  something  to  human  view,  but  not  much,  I  am 
afraid,  in  the  eye  of  Heaven.  But  tell  me,  did  your  com- 
rades generally  prosper  as  you  did  ?" 

"^0,  sir-ee  !  They  did  as  much  robbing  it  may  be,  some 
of  them  more ;  for  the  cavalry  generally  gits  all  that  is 
going  in  that  way;  but  they  gambled,  loaned  money  to 
needy  acquaintances  in  the  infantry,  and  wasted  it  on  worth- 
less women  whenever  they  had  a  chance.  I  saved  all.  I 
had  one  object  before  me,  and  I  kept  it  always  in  mind.     I 


88  TOBIAS    WILSOX. 

was  determined  that  if  I  went  to  the  devil  headforemost, 
my  brotliers  and  sisters  should  not  be  compelled  to  follow 
after  me  by  hunger.  They  are  safe  now,  and  that's  a  com- 
fort anyhow  !" 

"Mr.  Miller,"  said  Rogers,  "your  story  is  an  interesting 
one,  and  I  must  hear  more  of  it  another  time.  But  there 
is  a  more  pressing  matter  about  which  I  should  first  like  to 
have  some  information.  Be  good  enough  to  tell  us  what 
brought  you  here,  and  why  you  sought  to  murder  people 
who  had  never  harmed  you,  and  were  too  poor  to  excite 
your  cupidity  ?  Did  you  have  accomplices  or  instigators  ?" 

"  Xo  ;  none  but  the  dead.  We  entered  this  valley  by 
accident.  I  found  there  was  plenty  of  eatables  for  man 
and  horse.  I  thought,  too,  that  it  might  some  day  prove 
a  place  of  safety  if  we  should  be  hard  pressed  by  Yankee 
cavalry,  and  I  made  up  my  mind  that  it  should  be  my 
halting-place  when  I  was  in  this  neighborhood.  I  never 
meant  that  another  thing,  not  so  much  as  a  pewter  spoon, 
should  be  taken  from  the  family,  except  just  what  we  and 
our  horses  might  eat.  It  is  true  that  Tom  Simmons  threat- 
ened more  than  once  to  capture  the  old  man's  gray  horse, 
but  I  didn't  mean  to  let  him.  I  did  not  oppose  him  right 
out,  for  it  wasn't  necessary  to  quarrel  with  him  about  a 
thing  he  might  never  have  a  chance  to  try.  But  I  just 
made  up  my  mind  that,  if  he  ever  put  a  halter  on  that 
horse's  head,  I'd  take  it  off;  and  he'd  been  in  my  com- 
pany too  long  to  make  any  fuss  about  my  proceedins,  when 
he  knowed  I  was  in  earnest.  I  could  see  plain  enough  that 
it  was  to  my  interest  to  make  a  friend  of  the  old  fellow 
what  lives  here,  and  I  meant  to  do  it  if  I  could  fix  it  up  any 
way  at  all." 

"  He  does  not  live  here  now,"  interrupted  Wilson,  in  a 
voice  hoarse  with  emotion;   "he  is  dead." 

"Dead  V  exclaimed  Miller,  with  real  feeling,  trying  to 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  89 

turn  over  on  his  straw  mattress.  "  Dead  !  and  that,  I  sup- 
pose, is  some  of  my  work.  That's  another  account  added 
to  the  list  I've  got  to  settle  hereafter  !" 

"  You  4id  not  hurt  him.  He  was  murdered  the  day  be- 
fore." 

"  Thank  God  for  that !  Xot  for  his  being  murdered,  but 
that  I  did  not  do  it.  Two  days  ago  I  should  only  have 
thought  of  cursing  myself  and  Jenkins  for  the  idiotic  folly 
of  taking  a  corpse  for  a  sleeping  man ;  but  some  of  my  old 
feelings  are  coming  back  on  me,  and  I'm  not  sure  I'm  sorry 
it  happened  as  it  has." 

"I  have  strong  hopes,"  said  Rogers,  "that  it  will  turn 
out  to  be  much  the  best  thing  that  could  have  happened  to 
you.  But  go  on  with  your  story.  You  shall  hear  Ms 
before  long." 

Miller  took  another  and  a  larger  drink  of  the  brandy, 
for  he  had  lost  much  blood,  and  was  very  weak.  He  then 
resumed. 

"I  wanted  to  make  a  friend  of  Mr.  Johnson  because  I 
intended  to  stay  about  home  as  close  as  possible,  as  long 
as  any  of  our  boys  were  in  the  neighborhood  ;  for  I  knowed 
they  were  none  too  good  to  rob  7???/dad,  if  they  could  do  it 
without  my  finding  them  out.  1  wanted  to  watch  them  at 
any  rate,  and  as  it  was  certain  the  Yankee  cavalry  would 
soon  be  swarming  over  the  country,  I  judged  it  best  to  have 
a  good  hiding-place  away  from  home.  Well,  we  was  gone 
some  weeks,  and  in  the  mean  time  somebody  warned  the  old 
man  against  us.  When  we  came  back  we  found  the  house 
locked  up,  and  him,  and  another  feller  that  was  with  him, 
gave  us  to  understand  that  if  we  got  any  dinner  here  we'd 
have  to  fight  for  it.  I  began  a  palaver  with  him,  intending, 
after  making  a  show  to  satisfy  the  boys,  to  retreat  and  come 
back  some  other  time  when  he  was  in  a  better  humor.  I've 
thought  since  that  if  I'd  had  the  sense  of  a  cat  I'd  have 


90  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

gone  off  at  once.  But  I  didn't  have  time  to  study  it  over 
then.  The  first  thing  I  knowed,  Simmons  blazed  away  at 
somebody  who  was  in  this  here  room,  and  then  his  cussed 
horse-stealing  habits  made  him  try  to  mount  the  gray  and 
gallop  off.  He  hadn't  got  twenty  yards  before  a  bullet 
overtook  him.     He  had  rid  his  last  time  on  horseback." 

"It  was  I  who  fired  that  shot,"  said  Wilson. 

A  shade  darkened  the  brow  of  Miller,  but  it  was  only  of 
moment:ary  duration.  When  it  had  passed  away,  he  con- 
tinued. 

"You  fired  it!  and  I  owe  you  too  this  hole  in  my  shoul- 
der, and  Bob  Jenkins  there,  the  worse  hole  in  his  head. 
There  was  a  time  when  it  would  not  have  been  prudent  to 
tell  me  this;  but  I  hope  that  is  over.  But  I  can't  tell,"  he 
added,  shaking  his  head  sadly;  "I  don't  know  rightly  how 
strong  a  hold  the  Devil  has  got  upon  me  yi7." 

After  another  sip  of  the  brandy,  he  continued  his  narra- 
tive. 

"  We  made  terms  with  the  garrison,  and  carried  Tom 
Simmons  to  the  thicket  just  outside  of  the  gap.  We  would 
have  buried  him  there,  but  we  had  no  tools,  so  we  waited 
until  dark,  and  took  him  to  the  house  of  a  sure  friend. 
We  dug  a  hole  for  him  behind  the  stable,  and  there  he  is 
now. 

"  I  had  no  chance  for  friendship  with  Mr.  Johnson  after 
that  day's  work.  But  I  still  wanted  a  hiding-place  to  re- 
treat to  in  case  of  need,  and  I  determined  to  have  it.  I 
concocted  a  story  of  his  murdering  Simmons  which  I  thought 
might  drive  him  from  the  neighborhood,  but  it  didn't.  I 
tried  on  several  other  schemes.  They  failed  to  frighten 
him  off,  if  he  ever  heard  of  them,  which  is  doubtful,  and 
then  I  came  here  to  settle  the  matter  myself,  after  the  usual 
fashion  of  Gen.  Wheeler's  cavalry,  or  partisan  rangers,  as 
Jeff.  Davis  calls  them.     You  know  the  rest."    . 


TOBIAS     AVILS  ON.  91 

The  exhausted  man  took  another  sip  of  brandy,  and  then 
lay  perfectly  still  and  motionless.  The  candles  paled  be- 
fore the  broad  light  of  day.  The  two  young  men  rose 
and  left  the  house  to  perform  the  necessary  duty  of  feeding 
their  horses.  When  they  returned  with  the  materials  for 
an  early  breakfast,  as  a  preparation  for  the  labors  of  the 
day,  Sergeant  Miller  was  sleeping  as  soundly  as  a  tired  in- 
fant, with  its  dimpled  cheeks  pillowed  on  its  mother's 
breast. 


CHAPTER  YI. 

That  morning  a  small  but  sincere  party  of  mourners 
might  have  been  seen  struggling  up  the  steep  mountain 
path  which  led  to  the  dwelling  of  the  late  Robert  Johnson. 
It  consisted  of  Mrs.  Wilson,  Mr.  Rogers,  and  his  daughter 
Sophy,  the  surgeon,  Dr.  Griffin,  and  the  minister,  Parson 
King.  The  surgeon  and  the  minister  rode  a  little  in  ad- 
vance, and  occasionally  exchanged  a  word  or  two  in  low 
and  solemn  tones.  The  remainder  of  the  party  followed 
in  silence  and  in  tears.  When  they  first  came  in  sight  of 
"the  cabins,"  a  violent  sob  burst  from  Mrs.  Wilson,  which 
was  echoed  by  her  fair  young  companion,  but  no  exclama- 
tion, no  word,  was  uttered  by  either. 

The  young  men  had  passed  the  morning  in  making  a  rude 
coffin  of  planks,  in  which  they  placed  the  body  of  Mr. 
Johnson,  leaving  it,  however,  uncovered.  In  the  little 
garden  they  dug  a  grave,  and  made  all  the  necessary  prep- 
arations for  his  burial.  The  same  sad  offices  were  then 
performed  for  Bob  Jenkins,  except  that  his  coffin  was 
nailed  up  at  once,  and  his  grave  was  dug  some  distance  off. 
These  tasks  had  not  long  been  finished  when  they  saw  the 
party  of  mourners  descending  the  mountain  side.  Lock- 
ing up  the  kitchen  door,  in  which  the  wounded  prisoner 
was  lying  by  the  coffin  of  his  dead  comrade,  the  two  friends 
walked  out  to  the  bars  which  gave  admittance  to  the  yard. 
Mrs.  Wilson  and  Sophy  Rogers  were  gently  lifted  from 
their  horses,  and  led  in  silence  to  the  chamber  of  the  dead, 
where  they  instantly  threw  themselves  upon  their  knees  by 
(92) 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  93 

the  side  of  the  coffin,  and  gave  vent  to  a  flood  of  tears. 
Thomas  Rogers,  in  the  mean  time,  touched  his  father's  arm, 
and  leading  him  outside  of  the  house,  related  briefly  the 
night's  adventures.  Mr.  Rogers,  Sr.,  was  amazed.  He  had 
regarded  it  as  a  certain  thing,  and  had  so  spoken  of  it  to 
several  of  his  acquaintances,  that  Robert  Johnson  had  been 
murdered  by  the  soldiers  who  had  twice  called  at  his  house 
for  no  good  purpose,  and  were  at  last  only  driven  off  by 
the  slaughter  of  one  of  their  number.  It  was  now  plain 
that  they  were  innocent  of  his  death  in  fact,  however  guilty 
in  intention.  Who  then  could  have  done  the  bloody  deed  ? 
He  started  as  if  stung  by  an  adder,  when  his  son,  in  answer 
to  his  look  of  eager  inquiry,  said  in  a  stern  whisper; 

"Parson  Williams,  Josh  Wilkins,  and  Jim  Biles  are  the 
murderers." 

"Impossible!"  he  exclaimed.  "Impossible!  I  do  not 
love  either  one  of  the  three,  but  they  are  not  so  wicked  as 
that." 

"So  I  thought,"  answered  his  son,  "and  so  I  said;  but 
we  have  proofs  that,  before  an  honest  judge  and  jury, 
would  hang  a  saint.  We  will  talk  over  all  that,  however, 
another  time.  The  matter  which  presses  most  is,  how  are 
we  to  get  the  'women  folks'  away  from  here  without  let- 
ting them  know  that  there  are  two  dead  bodies  instead  of 
one  under  that  roof,  and  another  who  may  be,  for  all  I 
know,  in  a  fair  way  to  join  them.  Wait  a  moment  until 
I  call  Tobe  ;  we  will  then  walk  off  a  short  distance  together 
and  consult." 

Tobias  Wilson  was  soon  brought  from  the  house,  and 
the  three  men,  moving  out  of  hearing,  seated  themselves 
on  a  ledge  of  rocks  to  confer  with  each  other  as  to  the 
best  course  to  be  pursued  under  the  difficult  circumstances 
in  which  they  were  placed. 

9 


94  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

"  Thomas  and  I  thought,  Mr.  Rogers,"  said  Wilson,  "  that 
after  grandfather  was  buried,  we  would  get  mother  and 
Miss  Sophy  to  their  horses  at  once,  without  returning  to 
the  house,  that  you  and  Parson  King  could  ride  on  with 
them,  while  we  kept  Dr.  Griffin  with  us  upon  some  pretext 
or  other,  and  when  they  were  gone,  he  could  examine  the 
wounded  man,  while  Thomas  and  1  buried  the  dead  one 
down  in  that  hollow  where  the  grave  will  not  attract  atten- 
tion." 

Mr.  Rogers  listened  attentively  to  his  young  friend,  and 
thought  deeply  before  he  replied.     At  length  he  said: 

"It  won't  do,  boys  !  It  won't  do  !  Your  mother,  Tobias, 
will  never  leave  here  without  going  through  the  house. 
She  said  this  morning  that  she  had  some  arrangements  to 
make,  after  the  funeral,  for  your  comfort,  and  even  spoke 
of  remaining  here  all  night.  I  can  see  nothing  for  it  but 
to  go  and  tell  those  here  present  all  that  has  occurred,  and 
I  am  not  sure  but  that  it  is  the  best  policy.  It  will  serve 
to  distract  your  mother's  mind  somewhat,  from  thinking  of 
her  father,  and  thus  lessen  her  grief.  It  will  relieve  her 
too  from  a  part  of  the  anxiety  she  would  feel  on  your  ac- 
count, if  you  remained  here  to-night  without  giving  her 
a  good  reason  for  it.  You  must  tell  her,  and  the  best  way 
is  to  make  no  secret  of  it.  Go  into  the  house  and  tell  her 
at  once  in  the  presence  of  our  friends." 

It  was  apparent  from  Thomas's  countenance  that  he  co- 
incided with  his  father.  Wilson  was  staggered.  He  felt 
that  the  advice  was  good,  but  he  had  an  unconquerable  re- 
pugnance to  telling,  in  the  presence  of  her  he  loved,  a  story 
of  violence  and  blood  in  which  he  had  himself  so  larsre  a 
share. 

.  "  I — I  would  rather  not,"  he  stammered  ;  "  won't  you,  Mr. 
Rogers,  be  so  good  as  to  tell  it  for  me  ?" 

"No,  silly  boy.     I  do  not  know  the  facts.     Thomas  has 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  95 

only  given  me  an  imperfect  outline.  Why  should  you  hesi- 
late?     You  have  done  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of." 

"I  don't  think  I  could  get  through  with  it,  sir.     I — " 

"  Never  mind,"  interrupted  Thomas  Rogers ;  "  come  on  to 
the  house,  I  will  tell  it  myself." 

When  they  returned  they  found  Mrs.  Wilson  still  in  tears, 
but  much  calmer.  The  minister  of  religion  had  been  re- 
minding her  of  the  sinfulness  of  unmeasured  grief,  and  the 
ingratitude  of  thus  reproaching  the  Almighty  for  what  He 
permitted  to  be  done.  "The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  has 
taken  away.  Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord."  The  words 
found  an  echo  in  her  heart,  and  the  sorrow  which,  without 
religion,  would  have  maddened  her,  became  only  a  gentle 
chastening  in  the  presence  of  that  heaven-born  ejaculation. 
If  grief  was  not  banished  from  her  bosom,  it  was  softened 
and  subdued,  and  there  was  no  longer  danger  of  any  violent 
outbreak.  Thomas  Rogers  broke  the  silence  which  fol- 
lowed their  entrance,  in  a  low  but  distinctly  audible  voice : 

"  I  am  afraid,  doctor,  that  in  mourning  for  the  dead,  To- 
bias and  I  have  forgotten  the  duties  of  humanity.  There 
is  a  wounded  man  in  the  next  room  who  much  needs  your 
help." 

'*A  wounded  man!^^  exclaimed  the  doctor.  And  all  eyes 
were  turned  upon  the  speaker  as  if  to  read  in  his  counte- 
nance the  meaning  of  his  strange  words. 

"Yes  I     A  badly  wounded  man." 

He  then  went  over  rapidly,  but  distinctly  and  clearly,  the 
events  of  the  preceding  night,  omitting  only  the  subject  of 
the  conversation  between  Wilson  and  himself,  and  their 
suspicions  of  the  persons  who  really  murdered  the  old  man 
now  lying  in  his  coffin  before  them.  When  the  story  ended, 
the  doctor,  followed  by  the  gentlemen  present,  walked  into 
the  kitchen  to  minister  to  the  hurts  of  Sersreant  Miller, 
while  Mrs.  Wilson  and  Sophy  went  into  the  garden  to  gather 


96  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

some  of  tlie  few  flowers  blooming  there  to  decorate  the 
grave  of  her  parent.  They  had  not  plucked  more  than  a 
dozen,  when  Mrs.  Wilson  clasped  her  hand  on  her  heart, 
and  exclaimed : 

"I  must — I  must — I  must  tell  some  one,  or  ray  heart  will 
break.  Sophy,  my  love,  come  here.  Did  you  notice  To- 
bias when  your  brother  said,  that  although  he  at  first  sus- 
pected these  bad  men  of  murdering  my  father,  he  was  now 
satisfied  the  deed  was  done  by  some  one  nearer  home,  and 
he  hoped  they  would  soon  be  overtaken  by  a  retribution 
swifter  than  the  law." 

"Xo,  dear  madam,  I  think  I  was  too  much  frightened, 
thinking  of  the  danger  they  had  escaped,  to  notice  any- 
thing." 

''I  did,  Sophy.  I  watched  him  closely ;  and  the  glance  of 
bis  eye  brought  a  horrid  fear  upon  me.  He  spoke  some 
words  yesterday  which  disturbed  me  greatly;  but  to-day  he 
looked  as  if  the  fiend  already  had  possession  of  him.  Spare 
me,  oh  Lord !  in  mercy  spare  me  this  last  and  deadly 
blow!" 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Mrs.  Wilson  ?"  asked  the  trem- 
bling and  now  thoroughly  frightened  girl.  "  What  cause  is 
there  for  this  new  anxiety  ?  In  mercy's  name,  what  do  you 
fear  ?" 

^'Revenge,  my  child.  That  black  and  deadly  sin  which 
has  sent  so  many  souls  to  perdition,  and  is  yet  so  sweet  that 
the  best  of  earth's  children  are  never  safe  from  the  danger 
of  its  indulgence." 

"Revenge!  I  do  not  think  I  know  exactly  what  you 
mean." 

"  I  mean  that  Tobias  Wilson  has  forgotten  the  teachings 
of  him  who  is  now  gone,  and  is  contemplating  a  bloody 
and  fearful  vengeance  upon  those  who  murdered  his  grand- 
father." 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  97 

Trembling  like  an  aspen,  and  turning  as  white  as  the 
lily  before  the  sun  has  kissed  the  dew  from  its  leaves,  the 
young  girl  caught  her  companion's  arm  and  almost  shrieked : 

"  Oh  !  Mrs.  Wilson,  do  not  say  so.  Do  not  believe  that 
one  so  gentle  and  good  can  dream  of  throwing  away  his 
soul  for  the  gratification  of  a  fierce  and  wicked  passion. 
It  cannot — cannot  be." 

"Alas!  I  cannot  be  deceived.  If  the  Evil  One  is  not 
DOW  rioting  in  his  bosom,  I  do  not  know  the  face  of  my  own 
child." 

"Then  save  him,  madam.  Oh  !  save  him  from  this  horrid 
fate." 

"I  shall  try,  Sophy,  for  it  is  my  duty.  I  shall  weary 
Heaven  with  prayers, — but  I  have  no  hope.  Father  and 
son  both  gone  1  The  one  will  soon  be  in  the  grave ;  the 
other — worse.  Oh!  God,  strengthen  me  to  say,  'Thy  will, 
not  mine,  be  done.'" 

"I  icill  save  him/^^  exclaimed  Sophy  Rogers,  with  sud- 
den vehemence,  while  a  rosy  tinge  of  heavenly  beauty  spread 
over  her  cheeks,  and  her  eyes  brightened  with  a  gleam  of 
light  as  holy  and  as  pure  as  that  of  the  star  which  shed  its 
radiance  o'er  the  cradle  of  the  infant  Redeemer.  The 
shadows  of  the  mountain  rested  upon  the  spot  where  she 
stood;  she  had  lifted  the  straw  bonnet  from  her  head,  and 
the  spirit  of  the  summer  wind,  as  it  swept  through  her  dark 
chestnut  curls,  uttered  a  mournful  sigh  because  it  could  not 
linger  there  forever.  Hers  was  a  shape  and  form  upon 
w4iich  Xature  had  lavished  all  its  choicest  gifts,  and  then 
the  angel,  the  archangel,  and  the  cherubim  had  come,  one 
after  another,  to  touch  it  with  their  heavenly  hands,  adding 
a  line  of  beauty  here,  a  glow  of  softness  there,  and  spread- 
ing everywhere  in  every  lineament,  and  in -every  limb,  a 
mingled  grace  and  sweetness,  of  which  no  poet  had  ever 
dreamed,  and  to  which  no  painter's  aspirations  had  ever 

9* 


98  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

been  lifted  up.  But  it  was  not  the  mere  perfection  of  form 
and  of  feature  which  extorted  the  wondering  admiration  of 
the  beholder.  It  was  not  even  that  higher  loveliness  of 
expression  which  springs  from  the  union  of  intellect  with 
the  exact  and  perfect  chiseling  of  the  statuary.  It  was 
something  more  lofty  and  more  holy — more  sublime,  and 
yet  more  gentle  and  sweet.  It  icas  Religion.  That 
splendid  creature ;  that  being  of  unapproached  and  unap- 
proachable loveliness  had  contemplated  the  Godhead  so 
often,  and  with  such  deep  fervor,  that  a  portion  of  its  glories 
had  descended  and  settled  upon  her. 

"/  will  save  him/"  repeated  the  young  and  sinless  en- 
thusiast: "no  matter  what  it  costs,  I  will  save  him." 

"  Thank  you,  dear  Sophy,  for  your  good-will ;  but  if  he 
will  not  hearken  to  the  voice  of  the  mother  who  bore  him, 
there  is  little  chance  of  his  listening  to  yours,  sweet  and 
musical  as  it  is." 

"  Let  me  try  at  any  rate,  madam.     Do  let  me  try !" 

"Let  you  try!  yes,  surely;  and  my  prayers  and  thanks 
shall  go  with  your  efforts.     That  boy  is  very  dear  to  me." 

"  And  to  me  too,"  answered  Sophy  with  a  blushing  cheek, 
but  a  frank  unembarrassed  tone. 

Mrs.  Wilson  wondered,  but  said  nothing.  They  walked 
back  to  the  house  in  silence.  The  dressing  of  the  wounded 
man's  hurts  was  completed,  and  Mr.  Rogers,  Sr.,  suggested 
that  it  was  time  to  fasten  down  the  coffin-lid,  preparatory 
to  depositing  the  body  of  Robert  Johnson  in  its  last  resting- 
place. 

Tobias  Wilson  addressed  Dr.  Griffin: 

"  I  sent  for  you,  doctor,  for  the  purpose  of  getting  you  to 
examine  the  wounds  which  killed  my  grandfather.  Since 
then  we  have  collected  a  mass  of  testimony  which  makes  it 
superfluous.  Still'  as  you  are  here,  I  think  the  examination 
may  as  well  be  made." 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  99 

"  It  will  be  more  satisfactory,  I  think,"  replied  the  doctor ; 
"if  it  proves  nothing  you  do  not  know,  it  may  prove  some- 
thing to  others." 

The  body  was  removed  from  the  coffin,  and  the  ladies  left 
the  room ;  kindly  going  in  to  say  some  words  of  sympathy 
to  Miller,  and  inquire  whether  anything  could  be  done  to 
make  his  situation  more  comfortable. 

The  two  wounds  inflicted  on  the  corpse  by  Miller  and 
Jenkins  w^ere  not  examined  by  Dr.  Griffin.  The  other  two 
were  of  unequal  size,  one  very  large,  larger  than  would 
have  been  made  by  a  musket  bullet;  it  had  been  discharged 
from  a  smooth-bore  gun.  Dr.  Griffin  thought  it  was  a  shot- 
gun, as  he  knew  of  no  other  fire-arm  which  would  carry 
such  a  ball.  Tobias  Wilson  and  Thomas  Rogers  exchanged 
glances  of  intelligence,  but  said  nothing.  The  doctor's 
task  was  ended.  The  body  was  replaced  in  the  coffin,  the 
lid  was  nailed  down,  and  all  were  ready  to  move  on  to  the 
grave,  when  Sophy  Rogers,  with  a  burning  cheek,  but  a 
firm  and  steady  step,  and  an  eye  beaming  with  conscious 
rectitude,  walked  over  to  Tobias  Wilson,  and,  taking  him 
by  the  hand,  led  him  to  her  father. 

"Father,"  she  said  in  a  voice  so  little  tremulous  that  no 
one  noticed  it  but  her  brother ;  "  father,  before  we  leave  this 
room  I  have  a  secret  to  tell  you  and  a  favor  to  ask." 

"A  secret,  my  daughter  !  I  thought  I  knew  all  of  yours 
long  ago." 

"You  did,  indeed,  with  this  one  exception.  It  is  the 
first  I  ever  had  from  you ;  I  hope  it  will  be  the  last.  A 
little  more  than  two  years  ago  this  young  man  told  me  that 
he  loved  me,  and  asked  me  to  promise  that  I  would  some 
day  be  his  wife.  I  was  only  a  little  girl  then,  and  he  no- 
thing more  than  a  boy.  It  was  folly  for  us  to  think  of 
marrying  then,  and  I  would  not  bind  myself  by  a  promise 
which  I  might  some  day  have  good  cause  to  break.     But 


100  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

he  had  won  my  little  heart,  and  before  we~parted  he  made 
me  confess  as  much.  He  did  not  gain  much  by  that, 
though,  for  I  was  ashamed  of  it  as  soon  as  the  word  was 
out  of  my  mouth.  I  hid  my  face  with  both  ray  hands  and 
began  to  cry.  He  tried  to  soothe  me,  but  I  could  not  stop 
crying  for  some  time,  as  foolish  as  I  knew  it  to  be.  When 
my  tears  at  last  ceased  to  flow,  I  made  him  promise  that 
he  would  never  speak  to  me  again  of  love  or  marriage  until 
he  was  twenty-one  years  of  age.  Last  spring,  the  very 
day  he  was  twenty-one,  he  rode  over  to  tell  me  of  it,  and 
to  offer  me  again  his  hand  in  marriage.  He  little  thought 
that  I  knew  his  age  that  day  as  well  as  he  did,  and  had 
looked  forward  to  its  coming  as  often  and  thought  of  it  as 
anxiously  as  he  had.  It  ended  by  my  promising  to  become 
his  wife  in  twelve  months,  if  you  and  Mrs.  Wilson  consented. 
There  was  no  telling  what  might  happen  in  these  terrible 
times  during  those  twelve  months,  and  we  concluded  that 
it  would  be  better  to  keep  our  engagement  a  secret.  Still, 
to  have  no  confidant  at  all,  wore  a  clandestine  aspect  which 
I  did  not  like.  I  suggested,  and  Tobias  readily  agreed, 
that  we  should  tell  my  brother,  which  we  accordingly  did. 
Until  this  hour  I  do  not  think  any  one  else  knew  or  sus- 
pected our  engagement.  That,  father,  is  my  secret.  Do 
you  forgive  me  for  not  trusting  you  with  it  before,  and  will 
you  accept  my  chosen  husband  as  a  son  ?" 

During  this  frank  confession,  the  face  of  Tobias  Wilson 
underwent  as  many  changes  as  there  are  colors  in  the  rain- 
bow. At  first  it  was  suffused  by  a  deep  flush,  which  spread 
over  the  whole  body,  even  to  the  tips  of  his  fingers,  and  im- 
parted to  it  a  burning  glow  which  made  him  feel  as  if  a 
raging  fever  had  seized  him.  That  faded  away,  and  an 
ashy  paleness  took  its' place.  He  shivered  and  trembled  as 
if  suddenly  exposed  to  the  fierce  blasts  of  a  Lapland  win- 
ter.    His  head  swam,  a  film  came  over  his  eyes,  and  all 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  101 

thiugs  about  him  were  mingled  and  jumbled  together  be- 
yond his  power  to  separate  them.  Yet  through  all,  in 
every  change  and  mood,  the  fever  flush,  the  ague  chill,  and 
the  dull  suspension  of  sight  and  sense  which  made  objects 
indivisible  and  indistinct,  and  left  him  powerless  to  realize 
where  he  was,  how  he  came  there,  and  what  strange  part 
he  was  playing, — through  all,  pervading  his  whole  being, 
there  was  spread  a  vivid  consciousness  of  unutterable  bliss. 
The  clasp  of  her  soft  hand  thrilled  every  nerve  with  ecstasy. 
He  could  not  catch  her  words,  he  did  not  try;  but  he  felt, 
felt  to  the  inmost  core  of  his  heart,  that  it  was  her  voice, 
and  he  knew  instinctively  that  the  sweet  music  of  its  tones, 
upon  which  he  could  have  hung  entranced  forever,  was 
breathing  a  confession  of  love  for  him.  Oh  !  what'  is 
there  in  this  world  of  ours  that  he  wht?  has  once  loved 
would  not  exchange  for  one  moment  of  a  rapture  like  this  ! 
And  she,  too,  what  is  there  about  the  holiest  shrine  in 
heaven  more  sweet  than  the  gentle  love  which  found  its 
trembling  utterance  from  her  lips  ?  And  would  it  always 
be  thus  ?  Would  no  sin  darken,  no  change  come  to  steal 
away  the  brightness  from  the  golden  letters  with  w^hich  the 
angels  recorded  the  touching  and  simple  tale  of  a  love  till 
now  unspoken,  and  whose  intensity,  even  now,  she  never 
dreamed  of  attempting  to  paint?  If  those  questions  had 
been  suggested  to  her,  the  heart  would  have  instantly  re- 
sponded, though  her  lips  refused  to  shape  the  response  into 
words.  She  could  not  change,  for  her  love  was  the  essence 
of  her  existence,  and  inseparably  blended  with  her  religion. 
Sin  could  not  darken  it,  for  the  first  breath  of  sin  would  blast 
that  lovely  form  and  sink  it  to  the  grave,  as  surely  and  as 
speedily  as  the  summer  rose  would  wither  and  die  in  the  icy 
grasp  of  winter.  To  Mm  there  would  come  a  change,  a 
change  sent  by  the  God  of  nature  in  mercy,  not  in  anger ;  for 
no  human  frame  could  long  endure  the  wild  rapture  now 


102  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

throbbing  in  his  veins.  Other  changes  too  might  come  ; 
for  man's  love  is  a  riddle  we  may  not  always  read,  and 
man's  heart  is  but  too  apt  to  become  stained  in  the  rude, 
and  sometimes  degrading  trials  through  which  it  must  pass. 
But  we  are  dealing  with  the  present,  and  his  love  was  pure 
now,  pure  as  it  was  fervent. 

"Ah!  would  that  we  were  sure 

Of  hearts  so  warmly  pure, 
In  all  the  winter  weather  that  this  lesser  life  must  know; 

That  when  shines  the  sun  of  love 

From  a  warmer  realm  above, 
In  its  light  we  may  dissolve  like  the  spirit  of  the  snow." 

When  Sophy  Rogers  had  concluded  her  brief  "confes- 
sion," and,  turning  on  her  father  the  warm  light  of  her  eyes, 
asked  in  her  sweetest  tones,  "Will  you  accept  my  chosen 
husband  as  a  son?"  that  father  caught  her  in  his  arms, 
folded  her  to  his  bosom,  and  impressed  a  tender  kiss  upon 
her  forehead. 

"Gladly,  my  child,"  he  answered,  "most  gladly.  I  do 
not  think  I  could  have  had  the  heart  to  thwart  vour  wishes 
even  if  you  had  chosen  unworthily.  But  my  judgment 
approves  your  choice,  and  Tobias  has  long  bad  a  warm 
place  in  my  affections." 

"  Thank  you,  my  kind,  good  father.  But  I  knew  it 
would  be  so.  For  worlds  I  would  not  have  formed  an  en- 
gagement which  I  believed  you  would  disapprove." 

Then,  turning  to  Mrs.  Wilson,  she  said : 

"And  you,  dear  madam,  will  you  accept  me  as  a  daugh- 
ter? Will  you  love  me,  and  guide,  and  instruct  me,  so 
that  I  may  become,  at  some  distant  day,  almost  as  good 
and  as  saintly  as  you  are?" 

There  was  a  brilliant  flash  of  joy  and  gladness  in  the 
tearful   eyes  of  the  bereaved  woman.     She  clasped   the 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  103 

lovely  girl  to  her  throbbing  heart,  and  kissed  her  again  and 
again,  before  she  murmured,  or  rather  sobbed — but  it  was 
the  sob  of  happiness : 

"You  are  better  than  I  am  now,  darling ;  better  than  all 
of  us." 

Then,  clasping  her  again  to  her  bosom,  she  continued  : 

"Let  me  hold  you  here,  dearest  child,  here  against  my 
heart.  Its  beatings  will  tell  you  how  happy,  how  very 
happy,  you  have  made  me." 

With  one  arm  still  encircling  the  waist  of  her  future 
daughter-in-law,  she  called  her  son. 

"  Come  hither,  Tobias.  You  must  share  a  mother's  em- 
brace and  accept  a  mother's  kiss." 

Drawing  them  to  her,  she  imprinted  kiss  after  kiss  on  the 
lips  of  each  by  turns,  and  only  released  them  when  Mr. 
Rogers  advanced,  and  said : 

"You  must  accept  my  congratulations,  also,  Tobias, 
upon  having  won  the  love  of  the  sweetest  maiden  in  Ala- 
bama I" 

''In  the  world /^^  said  Wilson,  grasping  the  extended 
hand,  and  giving  it  a  strong  and  grateful  pressure. 

"Well,  I  am  old  enough  and  foolish  enough  to  agree 
with  you." 

Sophy  was  standing  by  her  lover's  side,  when  her  father 
relinquished  his  hand,  and  laying  her  own  gently  on  his 
arm,  she  looked  up  at  him  tenderly,  while  a  blush  suffused 
her  cheek,  so  deep  that  it  spread  a  roseate  hue  over  neck 
and  shoulders  and  bosom.  He  could  see,  too,  that  the 
long  lashes  drooping  over  her  eyes  were  moist  with  sup- 
pressed tears,  and  his  own  flowed  freely  in  sympathy  with 
hers.  The  severest  trial  she  had  imposed  upon  herself  was 
now  to  come.  She  trembled,  and  with  difficulty  kept  back 
the  tear-drops  which  were  struggling  to  escape  from  their 
crystal  fountain.     But  strong  in  her  guileless  love,  strong 


10-i  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

ill  her  convictions  of  duty,  and  stronger  still  in  the  firm 
belief  that  a  human  soul  was  that  day  intrusted  to  her 
keeping,  and  would  be  lost  if  she  exhibited  signs  of  weak- 
ness or  wavering,  she  shook  off  her  painful  emotions,  and 
said,  almost  gayly : 

"Confess,  Toby,  that  you  would  give  your  right  hand  to 
kiss  me  now." 

"I  would  give  my  life,  Sophy,  if  you  asked  it." 

"Well,  I  do  not  think  I  should  like  a  husband  with  one 
arm,  and  I  know  I  would  not  like  a  dead  one ;  so  you  may 
kiss  me  without  sacrificing  the  one  or  the  other,  if  you  will 
promise  to  be  a  good  boy  and  mind  all  I  say  to  you.  Do 
you  promise  ?" 

"  Yes,  yes;  anything,  everything  ;"  and,  without  waiting 
for  further  permission,  he  eagerly  pressed  his  fevered  lips 
to  hers,  and  for  the  first  time  drank  in  the  nectar  that  was 
treasured  there.  In  the  delirium  of  his  joy,  he  kissed  her 
again  and  again  before  she  could  release  herself  from  his 
embrace.  At  length  she  put  her  hand  before  her  mouth, 
and  said : 

"  Stop,  sir,  stop.  I  gave  you  a  kiss,  but  you  have 
taken  three.  You  have  broken  faith,  Mr.  Toby,  and  shall 
pay  for  it.  It  will  be  a  long  time  before  you  get  another 
chance  to  serve  me  in  this  way." 

While  the  scenes  I  have  attempted  feebly  to  describe 
were  being  enacted,  there  was  but  one  pair  of  dry  eyes  in 
the  room,  and  those  were  the  eyes  of  Thomas  Rogers,  Jr. 
Xot  that  there  was  anything  displeasing  to  him  in  the 
frank  confession  of  his  sister's  love,  or  in  the  exclamations 
of  satisfaction,  or  the  cordial  exchange  of  greetings  which 
followed  it.  But  he  knew  there  was  something  more  to 
come,  and  he  dreaded  it.  He  was  satisfied  that  his  sister 
would  never  have  been  induced  to  act  the  painful  part  she 
was  going  through,  without  some  high  object,  and  under 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  105 

the  influence  of  some  strong  and  powerful  motive.  He  had 
studied  her  character  more  thoroughly,  and  understood 
her  better  than  his  father  or  Mrs.  Wilson ;  and  as  for 
Tobias,  he  was  so  much  absorbed  by  his  overpowering 
love,  that  he  could  see  nothing  but  what  she  told  him  to 
see.  Thomas  Rogers  knew  that  his  sister  had  said  nothing 
which  she  did  not  feel ;  that  she  had  not  used  one  expression, 
or  performed  one  act  which  did  not  spring  from  the  heart, 
and  yet  he  knew  that  she  was  acting  a  part.  Not  that  she 
was  deceiving  any  one,  or  meant  to  do  so.  She  was  only 
telling  them,  or  allowing  them  to  see,  the  plain,  unvarnished 
truth.  She  had  not  exaggerated,  she  had  curtailed  rather ; 
she  had  suppressed  the  strong  expressions  of  her  love, 
which  he  could  see  had  more  than  once  trembled  on  her 
lips.  He  would  not  have  been  surprised  to  learn  that  she 
had  told  it  in  secret  to  her  father  and  Mrs.  Wilson.  But 
why  tell  it  in  the  presence  of  others  ?  He  knew  her  timid, 
sensitive  modesty,  and  he  actually  shuddered  for  what  he 
felt  she  must  have  suffered,  when  making  up  her  mind  in 
accordance  with  some  settled  plan,  some  dictate  of  duty, 
to  offer  her  lips  to  be  kissed  by  Tobias  Wilson  before  so 
many  witnesses.  What,  he  thought,  could  she  be  after? 
That  she  was  discharging  what  she  regarded  as  a  high  and 
imperative  duty,  there  could  be  no  doubt.  What  was  it? 
She  knew  nothing  of  the  consultations  between  Tobias  and 
himself.  He  did  not  question  her  ability  to  extract  that, 
or  anything  else  from  her  lover,  if  an  opportunity  had 
offered.  But  there  had  been  no  such  opportunity ;  they 
had  not  exchanged  a  dozen  words  with  each  other  during 
the  day,  and  Tobias  was  evidently  taken  completely  by 
surprise,  though  he  was  too  happy  to  show  perplexity,  or, 
indeed,  to  think  of  it  at  all.  These  and  kindred  thoughts 
were  running  through  the  mind  of  Thomas  Rogers  all  the 
time  the  coffin  was   being  transported  to  the  grave  and 

10 


106  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

lowered  into  it.  But  there  and  then  thev  were  superseded 
by  a  new  perplexity.  Just  as  the  minister  was  about  to 
begin  the  funeral  rites,  Sophy  Rogers  broke  the  solemn 
silence  which  sealed  the  lips  of  all  present. 

"  Father,"  she  said,  "and  you,  mother,"  addressing  Mrs. 
Wilson  by  that  endearing  appellative,  "you  have  been 
very  kind  to  me  to-day,  in  giving  your  sanction  to  my 
union  with  the  man  who  won  my  affections  long  ago,  and 
whom  I  love  with  a  fervor  I  have  not  ventured  to  express 
to  you,  or  to  him.  Standing  in  the  relation  we  do  to  one 
another,  is  there  anything  inconsistent  with  maidenly 
modesty,  in  asking  the  privilege  of  kneeling  by  his  side, 
while  the  prayers  of  the  minister  are  ascending  to  Heaven 
for  the  soul  of  our  murdered  parent?" 

All  were  surprised,  and  Mrs.  Wilson  hesitated  to 
answer ;  but  Mr.  Rogers,  whose  kindly  instincts  prompted 
him  to  gratify  his  daughter  in  everything,  and  who  more- 
over firmly  believed  that  it  was  absolutely  impossible  for 
her  to  cherish  a  thought  or  a  wish  which  was  not  strictly 
and  religiously  right  and  proper,  at  once  answered  the 
unlooked-for  question. 

"There  can  surely  be  no  objection  if  you  wish  it,  my 
daughter.  You  are  betrothed  to  him  with  mine  and  his 
mother's  free  and  glad  consent.  It  will  be  a  great  comfort 
to  him,  poor  fellow,  to  have  you  by  his  side  in  this  hour  of 
distress.  If  you  were  his  wife,  it  would  be  your  duty  to 
take  your  place  there,  and  I  am  not  sure  that  it  is  not  your 
duty  as  it  is.     What  say  you,  Parson  King?" 

"I  say  that  no  one  has  a  right  to  hinder  her.  That  it 
will  be  a  goodly  and  a  holy  sight,  to  see  these  pious  chil- 
dren kneeling  in  humble  prayer  by  the  grave  of  their  de- 
parted parent,  and  one  which  will  be  blessed  of  God,  and 
sanctioned  by  all  right-thinking  Christians." 

"And  you,  mother?"  pleaded  Sophy,  turning  her  eyes, 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  107 

from  which  the  tears  now  flowed  unrestrained,  full  upon 
Mrs.  Wilson. 

"Why,  I  think  that  what  you  wish,  and  your  father  and 
God's  minister  so  decidedly  approve,  needs  no  sanction  of 
mine.  Nevertheless,  dear  daughter,  you  have  it.  It  will 
do  him  great  good,  I  am  sure,  to  mingle  his  prayers  with 
one  so  sinless  as  thou  art." 

"Come  then,  Tobias,"  she  said,  taking  his  arm  and 
leading  him  close  by  the  side  of  the  minister;  "here  is  our 
place." 

A  hymn  was  sung;  a  few  appropriate  and  feeling  words 
were  spoken,  and  then  the  little  congregation  knelt  in 
prayer.  When  it  was  concluded,  they  rose  to  their  feet, 
and  Tobias  Wilson  would  have  risen  with  the  rest,  but 
Sophy's  arm  rested  on  his  shoulder,  and  her  head  was 
pressed  upon  it.  Slowly  she  raised  her  face,  luminous 
with  a  glory  borrowed  from  the  throne  of  the  Eternal. 

"Promise  me,  Tobias,  before  we  rise  from  this  sacred 
spot,  by  all  your  hopes  of  salvation  hereafter,  that  you  will 
not  seek  to  avenge  the  murder  of  the  good  man  lying  here, 
by  any  means  but  those  which  the  law  allows." 

For  a  moment  Tobias  Wilson  was  petrified.  Then 
every  nerve  in  his  manly  and  well-knit  though  slender  frame 
quivered  as  if  torn  by  pincers.  He  clasped  both  hands 
over  his  face  to  hide  its  fearful  workino^s.  The  strons: 
man  became  a  helpless  child.  Low,  heart-rending  sobs 
swelled  his  bosom  and  burst  in  agony  from  his  lips.  Sophy 
read,  in  the  fierce  tempest  which  shook  him  within  and 
without,  the  whole  horrid  truth, — the  demon  was  there  in 
all  his  might  and  power.  She  now  comprehended,  for  the 
first  time,  the  full  extent  of  his  dreadful  danger.  She  had 
anticipated  a  struggle.  She  had  not  flattered  herself  with 
the  hope  of  an  easy  triumph ;  but  this  was  something  more 
terrible  than  she  had  calculated  to  encounter,  and  she  felt 


108  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

a  momentary  sinking  of  the  heart  as  she  watched  the  fury 
of  the  struggling  passions  which  assailed  and  overmastered 
both  mind  and  body.  She  uttered  a  fervent  prayer  to  the 
Almighty  for  aid,  and  her  momentary  weakness  disappeared. 
The  angels  rested  from  their  avocations  in  heaven,  and 
looked  down  with  approving  smiles  upon  the  brave,  true- 
hearted  girl,  who  alone  and  unaided  was  battling  with  the 
prince  of  evil  and  his  attendant  fiends.  She  raised  her 
arm  from  the  shoulder  whereon  it  rested,  and  threw  it  lov- 
ingly around  his  neck. 

"Promise  me,  my  own  love,"  she  murmured,  in  a  voice 
sweeter  than  the  melodies  of  heaven.  "  You  would  prom- 
ise me,  I  am  sure  you  would,  if  you  only  knew  how  happy 
it  would  make  your  betrothed  wife." 

He  was  still  silent,  but  there  was  an  enchantment  in  the 
clasp  of  that  lovely  arm  around  his  neck,  and  a  strange, 
soft  music  in  the  words,  "your  betrothed  wife,"  which  pen- 
etrated to  his  inmost  soul,  and  left  the  citadel  of  his  heart 
at  her  mercy.  The  violence  of  his  sobs  abated,  and  the 
strong  frame  was  no  longer  shaken  by  uncontrollable  pas- 
sion. With  her  disengaged  hand,  she  removed  one  of  his 
from  his  face,  and  held  it  in  her  soft  and  loving  clasp. 

"You  are  ill,  my  love,  and  it  makes  my  heart  ache  to 
see  you  sufi'er  so.  Drive  away  that  wicked  spirit,  whose 
feasts  are  of  blood,  and  peace  and  happiness  will  return. 
For  your  own  sake,  for  your  mother's,  for  mine,  promise 
that  you  will  not  do  it." 

He  was  now  completely  vanquished,  and  the  baffled  fiend 
that  had  rioted  in  his  bosom  fled  away  forever. 

"For  your  sake,  dearest,''''  he  whispered,  so  low  that  the 
words  were  inaudible  to  any  ear  but  hers,  '^for  your  sake, 
I  will  promise  anything." 

She  clasped  her  arm  more  tightly  about  his  neck,  and 
her  little  fingers  closed  upon  his  with  fervent  gratitude, 


TOBIAS    WIL  SOX.  109 


X 


mingled  with  triumphant  gladness.  Her  rosy  lips  were 
brought  very,  very  close  to  his  ear,  and  she  breathed, 
rather  than  spoke  : 

"You  are  the  conqueror  at  last,  my  own  love  ;  but  you 
must  keep  my  secret  for  a  few  days,  until  the  recollection 
of  this  trial  ceases  to  be  painful.  Now,  make  the  promise 
you  have  made  to  me  so  that  your  mother  can  hear  it  dis- 
tinctly, and  you  may  yourself  name  the  day  which  makes 
me  your  wife." 

There  was  alight  touch  upon  his  cheek,  as  if  it  had  been 
gently  brushed  by  the  leaves  of  a  flower;  but  the  blood 
which  tingled  through  his  veins,  and  danced  in  joy  to  his 
heart,  was  stirred  by  something  softer  than  the  rose's  leaf, 
and  sweeter  than  the  honey  of  Hybla,  or  the  dew  that 
descended  upon  the  mountains  of  Zion, 

His  eyes  were  now  sparkling  with  rays  as  brilliant  as 
those  which  glitter  in  the  pearly  drops  upon  a  grassy  lawn 
when  the  rain  cloud  has  passed  away,  and  the  bright  sun 
comes  to  gladden  creation  with  his  presence. 

"And  you  will  not  make  me  wait  that  dreary  year,  to 
which  you  had  doomed  me?" 

"Not  an  hour  beyond  the  time  that  you  yourself  shall 
name.     I  am  yours,  now  and  for  evermore." 

"/am,  indeed,  the  conquer  or, ^^  was  the  joyful  response. 
Then  in  a  louder  voice,  clear,  distinct,  and  firm,  he  said : 

"I  call  Heaven  to  witness  that,  although  I  believe  my 
grandfather  to  have  been  foully  murdered  by  those  whom 
the  law  will  not  touch,  I  dismiss  all  thoughts  of  personal 
revenge,  and  here  freely  and  solemnly  promise,' over  the 
dead  body  of  one  parent,  and  in  the  presence \)f  another, 
that  I  will  not  seek  to  harm  them  for  this  cause,  or  for  any 
other  cause,  except  in  just  defense  of  myself  or  others; 
leaving  their  punishment  to  the  law,  and  to  Him  who  has 
declared  'Vengeance  is  mine.'" 

10* 


110  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

"Thank  God!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Wilson,  leaning  heavily 
for  support  upon  Mr.  Rogers. 

"Thank  God!"  repeated  Sophy,  burying  her  face  in  her 
hands,  where  she  was  still  kneeling  by  the  side  of  her 
lover. 

"Let  us  pray,"  said  the  minister;  and,  kneeling  on  the 
bare  ground,  a  prayer  of  mingled  thankfulness  and  suppli- 
cation went  up  to  the  throne  of  the  Most  High,  as  fervent 
as  any  which  ever  ascended  from  the  scaffold  or  the  cross, 
on  which  the  early  Christian  welcomed  the  sentence  which 
sealed  his  martyrdom  for  his  faith. 

The  trial  was  over.  The  victory  was  won;  but  the  vic- 
tor sank  exhausted  by  the  almost  superhuman  exertions 
she  had  been  required  to  make.  As  long  as  there  was  a 
doubt,  while  anything  remained  to  be  accomplished,  she 
had  borne  up  with  more  than  the  fortitude  of  a  martyr;  but 
when  it  was  over,  when  the  danger  had  passed  away,  and 
her  lover  stood  by  her  side  freed  from  the  temptation  to 
sin,  her  strength  failed  her,  she  could  not  move  or  speak, 
but  huDg  in  helpless  weakness  upon  the  arm  of  her  father, 
only  saved  fi*om  falling  by  the  strong  support  it  afforded. 
Mrs.  Wilson  approached  her  in  much  agitation,  saying  as 
she  did  so : 

"Xobly,  my  child,  nobly  have  you  redeemed  your  prom- 
ise to  save  him;  and  as  sure  as  there  is  a  just  and  merciful 
God  in  heaven,  you  will  reap  a  rich  reward." 

"Thank  you,  mother," she  replied  with  difficulty.  "But 
do  not  speak  of  it  now.     1  am  so  weary." 

The  lovely  head  was  bowed  upon  her  bosom.  The  gen- 
tle form  drooped  lower  and  lower.  "Hold  me,  Toby 
dear,"  she  murmured,  and  then  her  senses  fled.  She  had 
fainted. 

They  bore  her  to  the  house,  and  laid  her  gently  on  a 
bed.     The  proper  restoratives  were  applied,  and  as  soon 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  Ill 

as  she  opened  her  eyes,  the  surgeon  promptly  dismissed  all 
the  party  from  the  room  except  Mrs.  Wilson.  In  half 
an  hour  he  came  out  himself,  and  said  cheerfully  to  the 
anxious  group  who  were  awaiting  his  report  with  torturing 
impatience : 

"All  is  well.  A  deep  sleep  has  fallen  upon  her,  and  in 
a  few  hours  she  will  be  as  strong  as  usual.  But,"  he  con- 
tinued, "she  cannot  bear  the  fatigue  of  crossing  the  mount- 
ain to-day.     She  must  remain  here  until  to-morrow." 

Mr.  Rogers  was  not  surprised  at  this,  for  he  had  ex- 
pected as  much,  and  was  too  much  gratified  to  learn  that 
nothing  worse  was  to  be  anticipated  from  the  relaxation  of 
the  high  tension  to  which  her  nerves  had  been  strung,  to 
fret  at  this  trifling  annovance. 

Mr.  Rogers  was  a  widower,  and  for  several  years  the 
care  of  the  household  had  devolved  on  his  daughter.  Of 
late  she  had  been  assisted  by  Mrs.  Wilson,  a  circumstance 
which  afforded  Mr.  Rogers  no  small  gratification,  as  it  not 
only  enabled  his  daughter  to  devote  a  part  of  each  day  to 
the  cultivation  of  her  intellect,  (of  which  he  was  even  more 
proud  than  of  her  unequaled  beauty,)  but  secured  to  her, 
An  the  person  of  her  friend,  an  instructress  far  superior  to 
any  whose  services  could  be  engaged  in  that  section  of  the 
country.  In  addition  to  a  strong  and  masculine  intellect, 
Mrs.  Wilson  possessed  many  feminine  accomplishments. 
Her  husband,  in  his  lifetime,  was  proud  of  her  attainments 
and  fond  of  showing  her  off  to  his  friends  and  even  to 
strangers. 

He  had  been  reared  in  the  lap  of  plenty,  and  surrounded 
his  young  wife  with  books,  music,  paintings,  implements  of 
art  with  which  she  herself  made  experiments,  .with  every- 
thing in  short  that  a  taste  like  hers,  at  once  refined  and 
intellectual,  could  desire  or  suggest.  His  own  habits  were 
extravagant,  and  the  consequence  was  that  pecuniary  em- 


112  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

barrassment  soon  followed.  He  knew  nothing  of  business, 
and  resorted  to  all  the  shifts  that  such  men  usually  grasp 
at,  and  which  usually  end  in  ruin.  He  committed  the 
folly,  also,  of  concealing  his  real  situation  from  his  wife, 
and  she  went  on  squandering  suras  upon  intellectual  and 
social  enjoyments,  which,  judiciously  husbanded,  would 
have  relieved  him  of  many  embarrassments ;  while  he  was 
beset  by  duns  from  day  to  day.  At  length  a  time  arrived 
when  concealment  was  no  longer  possible,  and  she  waked 
from  a  dream  of  wealth  to  find  herself  but  little  better 
than  a  pauper.  Instead  of  indulging  in  reproaches  or  re- 
grets, she  wrote  at  once  to  her  father,  soliciting  his  pres- 
ence and  assistance.  One  glance  into  the  affairs  of  his 
son-in-law  satisfied  Mr.  Johnson  that  he  was  hopelessly 
insolvent.  That  son-in-law  had  never  had  the  courage  to 
go  over  his  own  accounts.  He  had  attempted  it  several 
times,  but  each  time  became  discouraged  and  gave  it  up. 
Mr.  Johnson  took  hold  of  the  business  with  the  resolution 
of  a  man  determined  to  know  the  worst.  The  accounts 
were  audited,  those  which  were  fair  and  honest  were 
marked  for  settlement,  and  those  which  were  exorbitant  or 
dishonest,  rejected.  Everything  was  then  disposed  of  at 
public  sale,  except  a  portion  of  the  household  furniture, 
books,  music,  implements  for  drawing  and  painting,  and 
certain  articles  of  virtu  which  Mr.  Wilson  had  collected 
for  his  wife.  The  money  thus  obtained  was  promptly  ap- 
plied to  the  payment  of  the  most  necessitous  creditors,  and 
Mr.  Johnson  removed  his  dausrhter  and  son-in  law  to  his 
own  house,  in  an  adjoining  State.  In  a  few  months  after- 
ward Tobias  Wilson  was  born;  but  the  gladness  which 
this  event  would  otherwise  have  caused,  was  overshadowed 
by  apprehensions  for  his  father.  Mr.  Wilson  had  never 
recovered  from  the  stunning  effects  of  his  misfortune.  His 
wife  had  at  once  accommodated  herself  to  their  changed 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  113 

circumstances.     But  he  lost  all  energy,  and  gave  himself 
up  to  despair.     From  being  the  gayest  and  most  light- 
hearted  of  human  beings,  he  became  pensive,  gloomy,  dis- 
contented and   querulous.     His  wife  alone  had  power  to 
chase  the  gloom  from  his  brow,  and  the  peevishness  from 
his  heart.     Whenever  he  was  out  of  her  presence  he  be- 
came disagreeable,  if  not  absolutely  rude   to   every  one 
about  him.     Mr.  Johnson  had  tried  in  vain  to  correct  this 
unmanly  fault.     Finally  he  concluded  that  the  best  treat- 
ment would  be  to  let  him  alone,  in  the  hope  that  in  a  year 
or  two  the  grief  which  afflicted  him  would  wear  itself  out, 
and  he  might  yet  become  a  useful  member  of  society.     The 
good  effects  of  this  judicious  treatment  had  just  begun  to 
manifest  themselves,  when  a  new  cause  for  anxiety  arose. 
His  health  began  to  fail,  and  the  physicians  pronounced 
his  disease  consumption.     In  six  months  after  the  birth  of 
his  son,  John  Tobias  Wilson  was  in  his  grave.     His  wife 
had  loved  him  dearly,  and  her  grief  for  his  loss  was  deep 
and  sincere.     But  her  father  allowed  her  little  time  for  its 
indulgence.     With  the  prompt  decision  of  his  character, 
he  sold  out  his  own  property,  never  very  large,  paid  off  the 
remainder  of  the  debts  of  his  son-in-law,  and  settled  himself 
upon  a  smaller  property,  where  he  still  had  all  the  comforts 
and  most  of  the  luxuries  of  life.     The  education  of  Tobias 
Wilson  may  almost  be  said  to  have  begun  in  his  cradle. 
He  had  no  teachers  but  his  grandfather,  but  he  was  a  com- 
petent and  indefatigable  one.     And  as  the  boy  grew  in 
years,  his  mother  and  his  grandfather  congratulated  them- 
selves upon  the  high  promise  of  future  usefulness  which  at 
an  early  age  began  to  manifest  itself  in  his  conduct  and 
deportment.     Years  went  by,  and  each   returning  season 
saw  that  little  family  contented  and  happy.     About  this 
time  a  new  and  virulent  disease  broke  out  in  the  neighbor- 
hood.    It  was  called  the  "black  tongue."     They  had  read 


114  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

of  its  ravages  in  other  places  and  were  greatly  alarmed, 
especially  on  account  of  the  boy,  who  now  constituted  the 
sole  link  between  them  and  posterity;  but  they  were  so 
situated  that  they  could  not  fly,  and  probably  would  not 
have  done  so  if  they  could ;  Mr.  Johnson  saying  he  had 
often  observed  that  persons  fleeing  from  the  pestilence, 
after  they  had  once  breathed  its  malaria,  were  more  liable 
to  be  stricken  down  than  those  who  remained.  His  family 
was  among  the  last  that  were  visited.  But  when  it  did 
come,  it  made  amends  for  the  delay  by  added  malignity. 
He  was  himself  "taken  down,"  and  hovered  long  on  the 
confines  of  life  and  death.  He  recovered  to  find  that  all 
the  most  valuable  of  his  servants  had  been  carried  off,  and 
almost  the  whole  of  his  year's  crop  was  lost  for  the  want 
of  hands  to  cultivate  it.  One  year's  experiment  satisfied 
him  that  he  could  not  recover  his  losses,  or  continue  to 
live  in  the  style  to  which  he  was  accustomed,  if  he  remained 
where  he  was  ;  and  he  determined  to  make  a  journey  to  the 
Southwest,  in  quest  of  a  new  home.  When  he  returned, 
he  announced  to  his  daughter  that  he  had  purchased  a 
secluded  farm  in  the  mountains  of  Xorth  Alabama.  With- 
out a  word  of  objection  she  made  her  arrangements  to  ac- 
company him.  The  few  servants  who  remained  were 
emancipated,  and  a  piece  of  ground  reserved  for  their 
support.  Everything  else  was  sold,  except  the  bedclothes 
and  such  household  articles  as  they  could  carry  with  them. 
The  property  which  Mrs.  Wilson  had  reserved  from  her 
husband's  estate  was  carefully  packed  up  and  left  in  the 
custody  of  a  merchant  in  the  neighboring  town. 

"You  have  no  daughter,  Maria,"  he  remarked  to  Mrs. 
Wilson,  "but  these  things  will  make  a  handsome  and  use- 
ful present  to  your  son's  wife,  when  he  is  fortunate  enough 
to  get  one.  To  you  they  will  be  henceforth  useless,  as  we 
are  not  likelv  to  have  a  house  fit  to  contain  them,  nor  is  it 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  115 

probable  that  you  will  have  the  leisure  to  amuse  yourself 
with  them." 

It  was  thus  that  Robert  Johnson  became  a  resident  of 
the  little  valley  where  he  at  last  met  his  death  at  the  hands 
of  three  blood-thirsty  assassins. 

In  the  double  character  of  assistant  and  instructress  to 
his  favorite  child,  during  the  short  time  she  had  been  under 
his  roof,  Mrs.  Wilson  had  become  very  dear  to  Mr.  Rogers, 
and  as  he  thought  indispensable  to  his  family.  He  looked 
to  her  for  advice  and  assistance  in  all  things  that  concerned 
his  family  affairs.  When  the  inability  of  his  daughter  t© 
return  home  that  day  was  announced  to  him,  he  was  de- 
lighted to  know  that  she  would  be  in  the  care  and  company 
of  Mrs.  Wilson,  and  made  arrangements  for  his  own  return 
without  a  thought  of  uneasiness.  It  was  decided  that 
Parson  King  should  accompany  him, — the  two  young 
men  remaining  to  finish  the  day's  work  of  burying  the 
dead,  and  the  doctor  to  watch  over  his  sweet  patient,  and 
to  note  the  symptoms  that  might  develop  themselves  dur- 
ing the  night  in  the  wounded  guerrilla. 

As  Mr.  Rogers  and  his  companion  ascended  the  steep 
and  rugged  sides  of  the  mountain,  the  body  of  Jenkins 
was  borne  by  the  strong  arms  of  Thomas  Rogers  and 
Tobias  Wilson  to  the  gravethey  haddug  for  its  reception. 
But  few  words  were  spoken  until  their  work  was  done. 
Then  Thomas  Rogers,  leaning  on  his  spade,  and  plunging 
at  once,  without  any  prefatory  remark,  into  the  middle  of 
the  subject  which  occupied  the  thoughts  of  both,  addressed 
his  companion  with  evident  sympathy  and  condolence. 

"  You  had  a  fearful  trial,  Tobe,  and  I  pitied  .you  from 
my  soul.  I  pitied  you  the  more  because  I  knew  how  it 
would  end,  and  I  thought  what  a  terrible  thing  it  was  to 
suffer  so  much,  and  yet  have  to  'give  in '  at  last.  But  you 
battled  manfully,  far  better  than  I  thought  you  could      I 


116  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

thought  she  would  not  be  three  seconds  in  getting  your 
promise,  whereas  you  held  out  so  firmly,  that  even  I  began 
to  doubt  whether  she  would  get  it  at  all.  You  didn't  win, 
for  that  was  impossible,  but  you  made  a  glorious  fight.  I 
felt  proud  of  you,  Tobe,  even  while  crying  like  a  baby  over 
what  you  suffered.  I  held  up  till  then,  but  I  couldn't  stand 
it  any  longer." 

"  I  thank  you,  Thomas,  sincerely  thank  you.  But,  really, 
I  do  not  believe  there  is  a  man  in  America  over  whom  his 
friends  have  less  cause  to  weep  than  mine  have." 
.  "That  maybe  so  now;  but  it  wasn't  so  an  hour  ago, 
when  you  were  shivering  and  trembling  and  groaning  and 
sobbing  as  if  somebody  had  taken  a  mallet  and  mashed 
yo^r  heart  as  flat  as  a  pancake.  Good  God  !  man,  I  never 
saw  such  suffering  before,  and  I  hope  I  may  never  see  it 
again ;  and  I  could  see  plainly  enough  that  she  wasn't  much 
better  off  than  you  were,  as  hard  as  she  tried  to  hide  it  I" 

"I  trust  in  God  she  may  have  suffered  no  more!"  said 
Wilson,  a  sudden  and  dreadful  apprehension  seizing  him ; 
"it  would  kilt  me  if  anything  serious  happened  to  her  from 
this  day's  work !" 

"No  fear  of  that.  Sophy  is  not  a  thing  of  gossamer 
threads.  She  is  as  strong  and  healthy  as  she  is  brave  and 
high-hearted.  The  worst  is  over.  All  she  needs  now  is 
a  good  sleep  and  a  little  petting  by  your  mother,  which  she 
is  sure  to  get.  And  you  seem  to  have  recovered  wonder- 
fully quick  from  your  troubles.  What  was  it  she  whis- 
pered to  you  that  made  you  stop  crying  and  sobbing  so 
suddenly?" 

"Ask  her ;  or,  if  you  can  afford  to  wait  patiently  for  a 
day  or  two,  I  think  she  will  tell  you  herself  in  that  time." 

"No,  she  won't;  for  I  have  no  idea  of  giving  her  a 
chance.  After  witnessing  the  ordeal  through  which  you 
were  compelled  to  pass,  I  have  not  the  slightest  inclination 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  117 

to  subject  myself  to  such  a  trial.  She  is  my  sister,  and 
cannot  be  my  wife ;  she  cannot  therefore  torture  me  as  she 
did  you.  But  I  love  her  enough  to  make  it  very  hard  to 
say  710  when  she  tells  me  to  say  'yes.'  Enough  to  enable 
her  to  wring  the  blood  from  my  heart-strings  if  she  should 
take  it  into  her  head  to  make  the  experiment.  I  have  seen 
enough  this  day  to  be  certain  that  she  will  do  so  if  she 
gets  a  hint  of  what  I  am  about  to  do,  No,  no,  Tobe,  you 
don't  catch  me  putting  myself  in  her  way  until  all  is  over." 

"  Thomas,"  said  Wilson,  very  seriously,  "we  have  known 
and  loved  each  other  for  more  than  ten  years,  and  that  is  a 
lifetime  to  people  as  young  as  we  are.  In  looking  back 
upon  the  past,  your  friendship  is  the  one  single  ray  which 
illumined  my  solitary  boyhood " 

"You  forget  Sophy's  love,"  interrupted  his  companion. 

"Xo,  I  don't.  Nor  my  mother's,  nor  my  grandfather's, 
nor  your  father's.  But  that  is  not  what  I  mean.  I  do  not 
mean  to  say  that  I  have  been  without  love  or  sympathy,  or 
that  I  have  been  unhappy,  or  even  felt  my  lot  a  sad  one,  or 
my  situation  irksome.  I  mean  that  of  young  persons  of 
my  own  age  and  sex,  you  are  the  only  friend  I  ever  had. 
That  friendship  is  the  one  cherished  memory  of  my  boyhood 
and  youth,  and  it  has  made  you  very  dear  to  me.  Before 
long  I  shall  have  the  right  to  call  you  brother  as  well  as 
friend.  Sophy  told  me  to-day  that  I  might  myself  name 
the  day,  and  even  the  hour,  for  our  wedding." 

"Did  she  ?"  again  interrupted  Rogers;  "  then  she  took  a 
most  unfair  advantage  of  you,  and  your  promise  to  her 
isn't  worth  a  straw.  It  was  bribery  and  corruption  of  the 
rankest  kind.  That  temptation  would  have  lured  an  angel 
from  the  skies.  She  didn't  give  you  a  fair  chance,  or  for 
that  matter,  any  chance  at  all,  and  I  hold  that  you  are  not 
bound  by  the  promise  you  made  her.     You  were  not  a  free 

11 


118  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

agent,  no  more  than  if  you  had  been  under  the  influence 
of  mesmerism." 

Wilson  could  not  help  smiling,  as  he  had  often  done  be- 
fore, at  the  enthusiasm  of  his  friend's  admiration  for  his 
sister,  and  the  frank  and  guileless  manner  in  which  he  al- 
lowed that  admiration  to  appear  on  all  occasions  when  her 
name  was  mentioned.  But  his  thoughts  were  too  serious 
to  admit  of  the  presence  of  more  than  a  transitory  gleam 
of  melancholy  humor  and  pleasantry. 

"I  did  not  promise  her  alone,"  said  Wilson;  "I  prom- 
ised the  dead,  my  mother,  and  ray  God.  I  cannot  break 
that  promise,  nor  do  I  wish  to  do  so.  A  few  hours  have 
wrought  in  me  a  great  change.  Your  sister  is  my  guardian 
angel.  She  has  saved  me  from  myself.  Xot  only  the  de- 
mon of  revenge,  but  all  other  demons,  fled  away  at  her 
bidding,  I  trust  never  to  return.  Oh,  Thomas  !  if  you  love 
me,  if  you  love  her,  if  you  care  for  your  own  salvation,  tell 
her  what  you  propose  to  do,  and  at  least  listen  to  what  she 
has  to  say." 

Thomas  Rogers  was  afi'ected  by  this  appeal  more  than 
he  chose  to  acknowledge.  He  had  made  up  his  mind,  and, 
in  his  own  opinion,  he  had  made  it  up  rightly.  From  that 
opinion  he  knew  his  sister  and  his  father  would  both  dis- 
sent. He  had  no  wish  to  argue  the  point  with  them.  He 
was  satisfied  that  they  could  not  change  his  purpose  but 
they  could  make  it  very  painful  for  him  to  adhere  to  it. 
By  extinguishing,  at  once  and  forever,  all  hope  in  the  mind 
of  Tobias  Wilson,  he  knew  that  he  would  secure  the  si- 
lence of  his  future  brother-in-law,  and  thus  prevent  any 
imprudent  communication  or  hint  from  him  which  would 
lead  his  relatives  to  suspect  the  dark  and  deadly  deed  he 
meditated,  and  the  plan  of  which  he  had  already  nearly 
matured.     With  an  affectation  of  lightness,  he  replied: 

"I  claim  the  credit  of  being  a  prophet,  Toby.     I  told 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  119 

you  that  you  would  use  the  very  language  you  have  now 
employed.  I  told  you  that  whenever  you  spoke  to  Sophy 
on  this  subject  you  would  come  to  regard  the  object  you 
had  most  at  heart  as  irredeemably  wicked,  and  that  you 
would  call  her  your  guardian  angel,  for  preserving  you 
from  doing  the  very  thing  you  most  wished  to  do.  I  knew 
too,  though  I  did  not  say  it,  that  you  would  give  her  credit 
for  being  able  to  control  me  as  she  has  done  you.  But  it 
will  not  do,  my  friend.  If  there  was  another  girl  in  this 
world  just  like  her,  who  was  not  so  nearly  related  to  me,  I 
might  surrender  as  you  did, — I  am  sure  I  should ;  but  that 
is  not  the  case,  and  any  discussion  between  us  would  only 
give  pain  to  both,  without  altering,  in  the  least,  my  fixed 
resolution.  I  beg,  therefore,  that  you  will  not  intimate,  in 
any  manner  whatever,  anything  you  may  know  or  suspect 
of  my  part  in  any  little  tragedy  which  may  be  enacted  in 
this  neighborhood.  You  will  also  please  to  consider  this 
prohibition  as  extending  to  my  father.  I  shall  conceal 
what  I  intend  to  do  from  them,  both  before  and  after  it 
is  done.  If  they  find  it  out  in  spite  of  me,  I  must  take  the 
chances  of  being  able  to  justify  the  deed." 

Tobias  Wilson  did  not  reply.  He  knew  it  would  be  use- 
less. His  eyes  were  apparently  fixed  upon  the  fresh  clods 
of  the  newly  closed  grave  before  him.  But  in  reality  he 
saw  nothing.  He  was  running  over  in  his  mind  the 
chances  of  his  friend's  success  or  failure.  Then  he  shud- 
deringly  admitted  the  disagreeable  conviction,  that  whether 
he  succeeded  or  failed,  he  was  preparing  a  bounteous  crop 
of  grief  for  his  relatives,  and  of  unutterable  woe  for  him- 
self. 

Thomas  Rogers,  too,  was  lost  in  thought.  He  was,  how- 
ever, the  first  to  recover  himself. 

"Your  promise,  Toby,  honestly  construed,  prevents  you 
from  assisting  me,  or  any  one  else,  in  the  accomplishment 


120  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

of  the  object  which  yesterday  you  had  so  much  at  heart. 
I  would  not  have  you  depart  from  its  spirit  or  its  letter  by 
one  hair's  breadth,  and  I  am  certain  you  would  not  if  I 
were  base  enough  to  ask  you.  Keep  it  in  its  widest  sense. 
Keep  it  for  Sophy's  sake ;  for  it  would  break  her  heart  to 
suspect  you  of  being  capable  of  a  meanness.  But  your 
promise  does  not  bind  you  to  refuse  me  your  assistance  if 
I  should  get  into  trouble." 

^'Certainly  not.  Nor  does  it  bind  me  not  to  defend  you 
if  at  any  time,  no  matter  from  what  cause,  you  should  need 
the  presence  of  a  friend  at  your  side.  Count  on  me  in 
every  such  emergency, — you  shall  not  be  disappointed  !" 

"I  thought  so,  and  I  thank  you.  There  is  one  thing 
more  which  I  must  say  before  this  conversation  ends.  I 
would  not  have  you  to  think  that  I  am  governed  in  this 
matter  by  a  mere  spirit  of  revenge.  Mr.  Johnson  was  my 
father's  friend  and  mine.  He  had  always  been  more  kind 
to  me  than  any  one  I  ever  knew,  except  my  own  father.  It 
is  my  sister's  fault,  or  her  good  fortune,  whichever  you 
please,  which  prevents  his  only  male  descendant  from  ad- 
ministering justice  upon  his  murderers.  The  task  is  thus, 
in  some  sort,  rightfully  devolved  on  me,  and  I  have  no  dis- 
position to  let  his  blood  cry  out  from  the  ground  in  vain. 
That  much  is  true.  It  is  also  true  that  I  am  a  Union  man, 
as  decided  and  uncompromising  as  any  other  within  the 
limits  of  this  broad  Republic,  at  the  North  or  at  the  South, 
and  being  so,  I  have  no  disposition  to  permit  a  good  man  to 
be  shot  down  upon  his  own  premises  for  no  other  sin  than 
that  of  loving  his  whole  country  better  than  a  section.  So 
far  as  these  two  facts  may  be  supposed  to  prompt  me  to 
revenge,  I  plead  guilty.  Yet  these  alone  would  not  be  suf- 
ficient to  induce  me  to  undertake  what  I  have  sjvorn  to  ac- 
complish or  perish.  I  am  persuaded  that  a  great  and 
pressing  danger  threatens  my  father  and  you  and  me,  and 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  121 

the  few  other  Union  men  in  this  immediate  neighborhood, 
from  the  same  source. 

"  The  ice  is  now  broken.  The  first  murder  has  been  com- 
mitted. If  the  perpetrators  are  allowed  to  escape  un- 
harmed for  a  few  weeks,  they  will  be  emboldened  to  repeat 
the  tragedy.  Other  actors,  too,  will  appear  upon  the  stage. 
Arson  will  follow  murder,  and  it  will  soon  become  impos- 
sible for  any  Union  man  to  live  in  these  mountains  unless 
he  turns  traitor  and  becomes  a  cut-throat  himself.  The 
best  and  surest  defense  often  consists  in  striking  the  first 
blow  ;  and  I  propose  to  shape  my  action  in  accordance  with 
that  policy.  And  now  that  you  understand  me  fully,  let 
us  drop  the  subject  for  'good  and  all.'  Whatever  you  see, 
whatever  you  hear,  whatever  you  suspect,  say  nothing. 
Keep  my  secret.  I  have  seen  to-day  how  you  could  hold 
out  when  your  heart  was  breaking  and  your  frame  quiver- 
ing as  if  shattered  by  a  thunder-bolt,  and,  as  my  sister  can- 
not make  you  any  more  promises  of  marriage,  I  shall  feel 
tolerably  safe  if  you  will  only  give  me  your  word  not  to 
betrav  me." 

The  pledge  was  given  and  accepted,  and  the  two  friends 
returned  to  the  house,  where  they  found  Dr.  Griffin  sitting 
by  the  side  of  the  wounded  soldier.  He  said  that  Sophy 
had  awakened  from  her  sleep  much  refreshed,  and  he  did 
not  think  it  probable  she  would  again  require  his  services. 
His  report  of  Sergeant  Miller's  case  was  not  so  favorable. 
Fever  had  supervened,  and  he  had  been  at  times  delirious. 
Amputation  might  become  necessary,  though  he  hoped  not. 
He  could  tell  better  in  the  morning.  He  added  that  it 
would  be  necessary  for  some  one  to  sit  up  with  him  during 
the  coming  night,  and,  as  the  young  men  had  not  slept  at 
all  the  preceding  one,  and  had  labored  hard  during  the  day 
he  proposed  to  take  that  duty  upon  himself.  It  still  wanted 
something  like  an  hour  to  sunset,  and  he  calculated  that  he 

11* 


122  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

could  get  enough  sleep  by  the  usual  bedtime  to  enable 
him  to  get  through  with  the  night's  vigil  without  difficulty. 
Throwing  himself  upon  the  bed,  he  charged  Tobias  Wilson 
not  to  wake  him  for  supper,  but  to  wait  until  nine  o'clock, 
adding  a  strict  injunction  that  his  cofifee,  in  the  mean  time, 
should  be  kept  well  heated. 

By  the  time  the  various  little  things  requiring  attention 
about  the  farm  was  looked  after,  the  sun  went  down. 
Cheerful  fires  were  lighted.  Mrs.  Wilson  undertook  to 
prepare  a  little  tea  and  toast  for  Sophy  Rogers  and  herself; 
and  Tobias,  who  was  no  mean  cook,  employed  himself  in 
getting  a  more  substantial  supper  for  his  masculine  guests. 
At  the  appointed  hour  the  doctor  was  roused  from  his 
"nap," and  drank  his  coffee  with  a  high  degree  of  satisfac- 
tion. His  patient  had  slept  heavily,  but  it  was  that  dull, 
leaden  sleep  which  brings  no  refreshment.  The  doctor  pro- 
nounced him  worse,  but  after  administering  a  dose  of  med- 
icine he  sent  the  young  men  to  their  beds,  saying  that  he 
would  call  them  daring  the  night  if  he  needed  assistance. 

What  visions  thronged  about  the  pillow  of  Tobias  Wil- 
son that  night,  when  for  the  first  time  the  woman  to  whose 
keeping  he  had  surrendered  his  very  soul  slumbered  beneath 
his  roof-tree  !  Did  the  spirit  of  evil  flap  his  somber  wings 
above  his  head,  and  take  a  malignant  pleasure  in  calling  up 
phantom  shapes  to  torture  the  helpless  sleeper,  and  darken 
the  love,  whose  birth-place  was  a  purer  orb  than  this  ?  Or 
did  the  good  genii,  who  had  leaned  in  breathless  anxiety 
from  the  battlements  of  heaven  to  watch  the  stern  and 
bitter  contest  of  that  young  and  inexperienced  heart  with 
the  powers  of  darkness,  did  ihej  gather  around  his  couch 
to  color  his  dreams  with  anticipated  happiness,  and  sweeten 
his  slumbers  with  a  foretaste  of  the  raptures  Jie  had  so 
nobly  earned  ?  Alone  and  unaided,  save  by  the  prayers  of 
one  gentle  and  tender  girl,  he  had  won  that  mightiest  of 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  123 

victories — a  victory  over  himself.     A  strong  human  heart, 
strong  in  its  original  sinfulness,  and  rendered  doubly  strong 
by  the  natural  promptings  of  filial  affection,  and  the  mis- 
taken conception  of  filial  duty,  had  been  vanquished  in  fair 
fight  by  a  mere  youth,  whose  only  stay  and  support  was  the 
good  seed  sown  in  early  life,  and  the  hallowing  presence  of 
her  upon-whom  all  the  wealth  of  his  affections  had  been 
lavished,  and  who  divided  with  his  God  the  worship  of  his 
soul.     Was  it  sin  thus  to  place  an  earthly  idol  on  an  altar 
dedicated  to  the  Most  High,  and  mingle  veneration  of  the 
Creator  with  adoration  of  the  creature"^    Oh!  no.    Re- 
ligion itself  is  born  of  love !     Implicit  obedience  to  the 
law  was  too  hard  an    ordeal  for  human   nature  to   pass 
through,  and  therefore  a  merciful  Redeemer   substituted 
love  for  himself  and  the  Father,  instead  of  obedience,  as  a 
condition  of  salvation.     No  matter  what  may  be  the  crime 
which  bars  the  soul  from  Paradise,  that  love  is  an  all-suf- 
ficing atonement.     Then  why  should  not  its  virtues  be  in- 
creased rather  than  diminished,  when  it  encircles  alike  in 
its  warm  embrace  the  brilliancy  of  the  Godhead  and  the 
gentle  and  tender  glories  which  He  himself  has  imparted 
to  the  purest  and  the  loveliest  of  his  creations  ?     Yet  why 
should  we  trouble  ourselves  with  questions  whose  solution 
belongs  not  to  us?     Why  speculate  upon  what  we  can 
never  know  with  certainty  until  the  Supreme  Ruler  of  the 
universe  has  taken  his  seat  upon  the  judgment  throne,  and 
the  great  book  is  opened,  and  the  law  expounded  for  eter- 
nity ?     Let  us  rest  contented  with  the  knowledge  which  is 
not  forbidden,  and  be  assured  at  all  times  that  it  is  not  in 
the  field  of  reason  but  in  the  instincts  of  the  heart  that  we 
must  look  for  a  guide  to  pilot  us  safely  over  the  dim  and 
shadowy  pathway   which   leads   to  the   unknown   Here- 
after ! 

To  his  own  heart  Tobias  Wilson  put  no  questions.     He 


124  T  0  B  I A  S     W  I  L  S  0  X. 

had  no  doubts  to  solve,  and  was  troubled  with  no  vain 
imaginings.  Almost  as  soon  as  his  head  touched  the  pillow, 
he  slumbered  soundly.  The  day's  fatigue,  added  to  the  loss 
of  sleep  the  preceding  night,  acted  as  a  powerful  opiate, 
and  for  hours  his  slumbers  were  undisturbed  and  dreamless. 
His  first  consciousness  was  that  of  a  rosy  light,  which 
seemed  to  fall  in  mingled  glory  and  beauty  around  him. 
Slowly,  but  clearly  and  distinctly,  two  forms  were  shaped 
upon  the  outer  border  of  the  luminous  atmosphere  in  which 
he  seemed  to  be  submerged.  It  was  his  mother  and  Sophy 
Rogers  who  stood  by  his  bedside,  looking  down  upon  him 
with  unutterable  love  and  joy.  That  vision  faded  away, 
and  he  saw  himself  standing  in  the  middle  of  a  small  room, 
with  a  veiled  figure  by  his  side.  She  wore  no  wedding 
garments  but  the  long  veil  which  covered  her  head  and 
fell  in  wavy  folds  over  her  neck  and  shoulders.  But  before 
him,  with  an  open  book  in  his  hand,  stood  a  minister  whom 
he  recognized  right  well,  and  around  him  were  all  those  he 
loved  best  on  earth,  while  the  background  was  filled  up  by 
a  group  of  soldiers  leaning  on  their  muskets,  and  apparently 
completely  absorbed  by  what  was  going  on  before  them. 
This  also  faded  away.  He  was  once  more  in  his  own  se- 
cluded home:  Sophy  Rogers  was  there  arranging  his 
scanty  household  furniture,  but  her  face  was  grave  and  se- 
rious; and  his  mother  went  from  one  room  to  the  other, 
with  an  anxious  and  troubled  look.  A  shadow  was  upon 
his  own  heart,  a  vague  feeling  of  impending  woe,  and  this 
was  increased  as  he  saw  a  horseman  coming  up  the  narrow 
valley  at  headlong  speed.  What  more  his  dream  might 
have  revealed  we  cannot  tell,  for  at  that  moment  he  was 
rudely  shaken  by  Dr.  GrifBn. 

"Get  up  I"  shouted  the  doctor;  "it  is  broad  daylight. 
Get  up  and  attend  to  your  business.  My  patient  is  doing 
much  better  than  I  expected,  and  I  shall  sleep  until  break- 
fast." 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  125 

The  two  young  men  rose  and  left  the  house.  By  the 
time  they  returned,  the  female  inmates  were  also  dressed. 
Meeting  them  in  the  passage,  Sophy  greeted  her  brother 
with  a  sisterly  kiss  ;  but  though  she  only  extended  her  hand 
to  her  affianced  lover,  there  was  a  soft  light  in  her  eyes 
and  a  rosy  tinge  on  her  cheeks  which  told  more  eloquently 
than  words  how  dear  he  was  to  that  guileless  heart,  and 
how  gladly  she  would  welcome  the  hour  which  bestowed 
upon  her  the  holy  name  of  wife. 

Breakfast  was  over.  It  was  decided  that  Tobias  Wilson 
should  accompany  the  doctor  and  the  ladies  to  the  other 
side  of  the  mountain,  while  Thomas  Rogers  remained  to 
watch  over  the  wounded  soldier. 

As  soon  as  they  were  gone,  Rogers  took  a  seat  by  the 
bedside,  and  held  a  long  and  earnest  conversation  with  the 
patient.  The  two  guns  carried  by  Jenkins  and  the  Ser- 
geant, and  which  were  dropped  by  them  on  the  night  of 
their  discomfiture,  had  been  brought  into  the  house,  and, 
together  with  their  revolvers  and  accoutrements,  thrown 
carelessly  in  a  corner  of  the  room.  During  the  conversa- 
tion, Rogers  rose  and  brought  one  of  them  to  the  bed.  It 
was  a  Spencer  rifle.  He  had  never  seen  one  of  them  be- 
fore; but  its  merits,  and  the  manner  of  using  it,  were  soon 
explained.  There  were  some  fifty  cartridges  already  made, 
but  this  did  not  satisfy  him,  and  he  inquired  somewhat 
anxiously  for  the  moulds. 

"In  my  haversack,"  was  the  reply.  ''We  picked  up 
these  guns  upon  the  battle-field  of  Perryville.  We  got 
some  four  or  five  moulds  with  them,  and  a  large  amount  of 
cartridges.  I  kept  a  pair  of  moulds  and  Simmons  kept  an- 
other, though  we  thought  we  had  ammunition  enough  to 
last  us  for  a  year.  Simmons's  is  at  the  house  where  we 
buried  him,  and  also  his  gun  and  a  wallet  of  cartridges. 
Mine  is  in  my  haversack  there,  for  I  always  carried  it  with 


126  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

me.  As  soon  as  I  am  able  to  ride,  I  will  get  Simmons's  gun 
and  moulds  and  cartridges  from  the  place  where  they  are 
hid." 

"It  will  be  better  to  do  so  on  many  accounts,"  replied 
Rogers.  "Though  with  one  pair  of  moulds  lean  make 
cartridges  enough  to  last  a  company  for  the  war." 

The  gun  was  replaced,  and  Rogers  again  seated  himself 
by  Sergeant  Miller.  It  was  evident  that  a  good  under- 
standing had  grown  up  between  them,  and  Rogers  soon 
learned  all  he  wished  to  know  of  the  habits  of  Capt. 
Joshua  Wilkins,  Confederate  States  Conscript  Bureau. 
Although  he  was  one  of  the  conscript  guard,  Miller  knew 
Tery  little  of  Parson  Williams  or  Jim  Biles.  He  had  seen 
Parson  Williams  once  at  Wilkins's  house,  and  might  have 
seen  Biles,  but  he  did  not  know  him,  and  could  not  say 
they  had  ever  met.  He  communicated  to  Rogers  the  fur- 
ther information  that  Wilkins  was  making  arrangements  to 
move  on  the  south  side  of  the  river,  and  had  given  orders 
for  all  of  his  guard,  who  were  scattered  over  the  country 
in  pursuit  of  recruits  for  Jeff.  Davis's  army  and  plunder 
for  themselves,  to  report  at  his  house  in  ten  days'  time. 

"Ah!"  muttered  Rogers.  "Then  I  have  no  time  to 
lose!" 

Addressing  the  wounded  man,  he  said,  slowly  and  em- 
phatically, watching  at  the  same  time  with  keen  interest 
the  expression  of  his  countenance  : 

"You  tell  me.  Sergeant  Miller,  that  your  father  is  a 
strong  Union  man,  and  that  you  yourself  were  dragged 
frojp  an  honest  and  respectable  home,  and  forced  to  become 
a  robber,  in  order  to  save  those  you  loved  from  poverty  and 
want.  You  surely  cannot  feel  any  great  attachment  to  the 
usurping  government  which  has  brought  you  to  this." 

"Attached  to  the  Confederacy  !  Good  God  !  what  have 
I  to  thank  it  for  ?    I've  fouglit  for  it  as  I've  seen  thousands 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  127 

of  others  do,  not  because  I  wanted  to,  but  because  I  was  in 
the  ranks,  and  didn't  like  to  be  whipped.  Many  and  many 
is  the  time  I  would  have  run  away  rather  than  fire  a  gun, 
but  I  was  afraid  they  would  say  I  ran  from  cowardice ;  and 
then  there  was  the  plundering  privileges  to  reconcile  me  to 
the  service.  But  still,  I  never  loved  it,  and  I  hate  a  con- 
script officer  as  I  do  the  horns  of  the  Devil !" 

"  Will  you  keep  of  this  mind,  sergeant,  when  your  wounds 
are  healed  ?" 

"To  be  sure  I  shall !  I  wish  to  God  I  had  never  seen  a 
Confederate  flag.  I  should  have  been  poor,  but  contented 
and  honest.  I  would  not  have  been  afraid  to  look  my 
father  in  the  face,  for  fear  he  would  see  signs  of  thieving 
there.  If  I  ever  willingly  look  on  it  again,  it  will  be  when 
I  am  standing  face  to  face  with  those  who  are  carrying  it, 
with  a  good  rifle  in  my  hands  and  a  Bowie  knife  in  my 
belt!" 

"If  such  are  your  feelings,  I  think  we  shall  be  good 
friends  hereafter,  and  it  may  be,  have  work  to  do  together. 
When  you  are  able  to  ride,  I  will  tell  you  more.  By-the- 
way,  your  horse  only  ran  a  short  distance  after  you  fell. 
We  found  him  the  next  morning  in  the  field  :  your  saddle 
and  everything  about  him  was  uninjured.  He  is  now  in 
the  stable." 

"And  my  saddle,  where  is  it  ?" 

"Hanging  up  in  the  passage.  You  told  us  there  was 
money  quilted  in  it,  and  we  brought  it  to  the  house. 

"There  is  something  more  than  money.  Please  bring  it 
here,  and  put  it  under  my  head.  It  has  been  my  pillow 
many  a  night,  and  I  shall  rest  easier  upon  it  than  upon 
these  feathers." 

Tobias  Wilson  rode  slowly  enough  until  they  reached 
the  place  of  separation,  for  he  was  by  the  side  of  her  who 
was  the  world  to  him,  and  listening  to  that  voice  in  which 


128  TOBIAS     WILSOX. 

all  the  music  of  earth  was  gathered.  But  no  word  was 
spoken  of  that  which  was  nearest  to  the  hearts  of  both. 
She  seemed  to  dread  any  allusion  to  the  events  of  the  past 
day,  and  kept  so  close  to  his  mother  and  Dr.  Griffin  that 
he  could  find  no  opportunity  for  alluding  to  them.  When 
they  reached  the  bench  of  the  mountain  which  had  been 
designated  as  the  place  of  separation,  she  held  out  her  hand 
to  him,  and  said  with  an  effort  at  gayety : 

"  Good-by,  Toby.  Do  not  come  to  see  me  to-morrow. 
I  shall  not  be  strong  enough  to  talk  to  you.  And  besides, 
I  wish  to  have  a  long,  long  chat  with  our  mother." 

Our  mother!  There  was  a  balm  in  those  two  words 
which  almost  healed  the  wound  her  first  sentence  had  in- 
flicted. He  seized  her  hand  in  his,  pressed  it  twice  to  his 
lips,  murmured  "  Good-by,"  and  without  a  word  to  his 
mother  or  Dr.  Griffin,  wheeled  his  horse  and  rode  madly 
up  the  steep  mountain  side. 


CHAPTER  yil. 

Tobias  Wilson  returned  to  his  own  dwelling  in  some 
perplexity  as  to  what  disposition  should  be  made  of  his 
prisoner.  He  could  not  be  removed  in  his  present  condi- 
tion, nor  was  it  certain  that  any  of  his  secession  friends 
would  take  him  in,  provide  for  his  wants,  and  secure  pro- 
per medical  attendance.  Yet  Tobias  felt  a  repugnance  to 
sheltering  in  his  house  one  whom  he  believed  to  be  a  law- 
less bandit,  as  unprincipled  as  he  was  dangerous.  He 
thought  of  riding  down  to  Paint  Rock  Station,  and  report- 
ing the  facts  to  the  U.  S.  officer  who  was  superintending 
the  erection  of  a  bridge  over  the  river  of  that  name. 
When  he  mentioned  the  subject  to  his  friend,  he  was 
surprised  to  hear  him  declare  warmly,  that  Sergeant  Miller 
was  not  half  so  bad  as  Tobias  thought  him.  That  he  had 
been  forced  against  his  will  into  bad  company,  and  though 
he  had  certainly  been  contaminated  by  the  examples  about 
him,  he  was,  nevertheless,  honest  and  true  at  heart,  and 
there  were  strong  reasons  to  believe  that  if  he  ever  re- 
covered, he  would  yet  serve  the  Union  faithfully  and  effi- 
'ciently.  Tobias  had  no  doubt  of  Sergeant  Miller's  ability 
to  render  excellent  service  to  the  good  cause,  but  he  did 
doubt  his  willingness  to  abandon  the  rebel  cause.  He 
thought  that  with  returning  health,  his  evil  propensities 
would  also  return.  He  waS  satisfied  that  the  only  safe 
course  was  to  surrender  him  to  the  United  States  troops, 
and  thus  place  him  in  a  situation  where  he  could  not,  at 

12  (129) 


130  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

least  until  regularly  exchanged,  again  associate  himself 
with  the  lawless  bands  under  Wlieeler's  command.  Thomas 
Rogers  assented  to  the  propriety  of  reporting  the  facts  to 
the  nearest  Union  commander,  but  vehemently  protested 
against  the  bad  opinion  his  friend  entertained  and  ex- 
pressed of  the  sergeant.     In  conclusion,  he  said : 

"  He  will  turn  out  all  right,  and  you'll  see  it.     To-mor- 
row I  will  ride  down  myself  and  make  a  report  to  Colonel 

.     You  can  stay  at  home  and  get  some  of  the  grass 

out  of  your  crop.  It  has  been  neglected  enough  of  late  to 
need  it.  I  will  be  back  to-morrow  evening,  and  will  stay 
with  you  a  week  or  so  to  help  you.  Father  does  not  need 
me  at  home,  and  I  have  no  particular  desire  to  have  his 
eyes,  and  those  of  your  mother  and  Sophy,  all  three  watch- 
ing my  movements  or  reading  my  thoughts  in  this  tell-tale 
face." 

In  accordance  with  this  suggestion,  Thomas  Kogers  the 

next  day  paid  a  visit  to  the  quarters  of  Colonel  . 

Tobias  noticed,  but  without  making  any  remark,  or  indeed 
entertaining  any  suspicion  of  the  cause  at  the  time,  that 
his  friend  had  put  on  the  accoutrements  of  Jenkins,  and 
carried  one  of  the  Spencer  rifles,  instead  of  his  own.  That 
evening  Thomas  Rogers  returned,  as  he  had  promised ; 
bringing  with  him  a  paper  which  exempted  Sergeant  James 
Miller  from  arrest  or  capture ;  and  another,  reciting  that 
Thomas  Rogers,  Jr.,  was  a  loyal  citizen  of  the  United 
States;  engaged  in  its  service;  and  as  such  entitled  to  the 
protection  and  assistance  of  Union  soldiers  whenever  it  was' 
demanded.  Tobias  thought  he  was  uneasy  about  some- 
thing. His  manner  was  hurried ;  and  once  or  twice  he 
stopped  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence,  as  if  his  mind  was  oc- 
cupied by  more  engrossing  thoughts.  These  things  did 
not  pass  unobserved ;  but  as  he  was  sure  full  confidence 
would  be  reposed  in  him  at  last,  he  did  not  attempt  to  ex- 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  131 

tract  it  by  questions,  which  he  was  convinced  would  now 
be  disagreeable. 

Placing  an  opiate  by  the  side  of  Miller,  where  he  could 
easily  reach  it  if  needed  during  the  night,  and  bidding  him 
call  them  if  he  required  assistance,  the  young  men  retired 
early  to  rest.  In  a  few  days  they  had  gone  through  much 
that  was  calculated  to  weary  the  mind  and  exhaust  the 
body;  but  there  is  a  vitality  in  youth  and  health,  a  recu- 
perative power,  which  we  never  realize  until  years  have 
come  to  shake  the  system  with  its  enervating  grasp,  and 
make  us  wonder  why  it  is  we  cannot  bear  up  under  fatigues 
from  which  in  earlier  life  we  would  have  deemed  it  un- 
manly to  shrink.  The  wearing  away  of  the  mind  is  slower. 
It  will  bear  up  under  harder  tasks  and  a  more  prolonged 
exertion.  But  both  mind  and  body  will  give  out  at  last, 
and  each  succeeding  tax  upon  their  powers  lessens  the 
ability  to  recover  their  original  tone  and  strength.  Tobias 
Wilson  and  Thomas  Rogers  were  upon  the  very  threshold 
of  life.  Fatigue  and  exertion  only  brought  to  them  a 
sweeter  sleep  when  the  day  was  gone,  and  night  spread  its 
mantle  over  the  earth.  There  was  no  restless  tossing  on 
the  bed,  no  turning  of  the  pillow  heated  by  a  fevered  cheek. 
Still  and  calm  and  stirless  they  lay  clasped  in  the  arms  of 
Morpheus,  unconscious  of  the  toils  and  cares  of  life,  its 
griefs,  its  promises,  or  its  hopes.  There  were  many  things 
which  weighed  upon  the  thoughts  of  both, — alike  in  ab- 
sorbing interest,  though  widely  differing  in  character, — yet 
both  were  wrapped  in  a  deep  and  moveless  slumber,  until 
the  shrill  voice  of  the  barn-yard  chanticleer  proclaimed  the 
coming  of  the  day  king,  with  his  fears  and  anxieties,  his 
joys  and  his  duties  in  his  train. 

Sergeant  Miller  had  also  slept  soundly  and  well.  The 
fever  had  left  him,  his  appetite  had  returned;  and  when 
Tobias  Wilson  set  out  on  his  tacitly  promised  visit  to  his 


132  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

mother  and  his  affianced  wife,  he  was  able  to  carry  to  Dr. 
Griffin  the  assurance  that  his  patient  was  in  a  much  better 
state  than  could  have  been  expected,  and  promised  soon  to 
be  able  to  dispense  with  his  visits. 

"We  must  not  jump  to  conclusions  too  hastily,"  replied 
the  doctor.  "To-morrow  there  may  be  a  change  for  the 
worse.  I  will  come  over  in  the  evening,  and  remain  all 
night.  Make  your  preparations  accordingly ;  and  be  good 
enough  to  remember  that  I  have  an  excellent  appetite,  and 
that  I  am  fond  of  being  made  comfortable  generally,  which, 
by-the-way,  I  am  never  sure  of  when  there  is  no  woman  to 
overlook  things  about  the  house." 

Tobias  was  warmly  greeted  by  his  mother  and  Mr. 
Rogers.  By  Sophy  he  was  welcomed  with  a  smile  so  win- 
ning that  he  felt  himself  repaid  a  hundredfold  for  the  brief 
banishment  she  had  imposed  upon  him.  Mr.  Rogers  did 
not  remain  long  in  the  house;  and  Mrs.  Wilson,  who  had 
not  forgotten  her  own  days  of  youth  and  love,  conveniently 
remembered  something  she  had  promised  to  look  after  in 
the  garden,  and,  taking  down  her  sun-bonnet  from  the  place 
where  it  was  hanging,  walked  out,  and  left  them  alone. 
One  hour  before,  Tobias  AVilson  would  have  given  a  world 
for  the  blessed  privilege  of  pouring  out  the  deep  flood  of 
his  feelings,  unchecked  by  other  eyes  or  ears,  before  her  who 
was 

"The  ocean  to  the  river  of  his  thoughts." 

But  that  opportunity  came  so  soon,  it  was  so  unexpected, 
and  it  seemed  so  strange  that  it  should  thus  have  offered 
itself  without  maneuvering  or  effort  on  his  part,  that  he 
was  completely  overpowered.  Then  his  embarrassment  was 
increased  by  the  very  consciousness  of  its  existence,  until  it 
deepened  into  a  feeling  very  nearly  akin  to  fear.  His  tongue 
clove  to  the  roof  of  his  mouth.     He  could  not  have  spoken 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  133 

a  word  if  his  life  had  depended  upon  it.  Ashamed  of  his 
weakness,  and  dreading  that  she  might  discover  it,  he  made 
a  desperate  effort — drew  his  chair  nearer,  and  took  her  unre- 
sisting hand  in  his.  Sophy  had  not  once  looked  toward 
him  since  Mrs.  Wilson  left  the  room  ;  she  did  not  now  raise 
her  eyes  from  the  silk  apron  on  which  they  seemed  to  rest, 
but  she  knew  what  was  going  on  in  his  bosom,  and  felt  so 
much  for  the  embarrassment  from  which  he  was  suffering 
that  she  tried  herself  to  break  the  painful  yet  blissfal  si- 
lence. The  effort  was  in  v.ain  ;  the  syllables  failed  to  shape 
themselves  into  words,  and  died  away  in  inarticulate  mur- 
murs upon  her  lips.  That,  however,  was  enough  to  break 
the  spell  which  tied  her  lover's  tongue.  Trie  deep  love  that 
had  become  the  essence  of  his  life,  and  whose  free  expres- 
sion had  been  so  long  restrained  by  the  injunctions  of  his 
mistress,  now  found  a  voice,  and  with  the  rich  eloquence 
which  always  flows  from  lips  sincerely  earnest,  he  painted 
the  first  buddings  of  that  tender  passion  which  glided 
gently,  with  timid  loveliness,  into  his  heart,  and  made  it  a 
resting-place  forever.  He  described  how  it  grew  and  flour- 
ished amid  doubts,  and  fears,  and  anxieties,  with  now  and 
then  a  ray  of  gladness,  when  a  soft  word  or  a  tender  look 
excited  hopes  that  he  did  not  love  in  vain.  Then  came  the 
stormy  struggle  which  followed  the  conviction  that  his  love 
must  be  spoken,  or  the  torturing  suspense  of  the  heart  would 
sting  the  brain  to  madness.  He  told  with  what  humble  self- 
distrust  his  confession  had  been  made;  meekly,  and  with 
unfeigned  lowliness  of  mind,  he  acknowledged  how  daring 
were  his  aspirations,  and  confessed  how  poor  and  mean  he 
felt  while  kneeling  before  a  shrine  at  which  the  winged 
cherubim  might  have  joyed  to  worship.  In  a  firmer  tone, 
but  still  with  a  voice  in  which  timidity  was  mingled  with 
exultation,  he  proclaimed  how  he  had  been  lifted  from  earth 
and  translated  to  the  seventh  heaven,  when  the  secret  of 

12* 


134  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

her  heart  was  wrung  from  her  lips,  and  with  tears  and 
blushes  she  confessed  that  his  love  was  returned,  and  his 
presumptuous  dream  was  a  crowned  reality.  Again  his 
voice  changed,  and  his  speech  became  hesitating  and  tremu- 
lous, as,  with  guileless  unreserve,  he  told  how  his  heart  had 
yearned  for  one  soft  pressure  from  the  lips  which  had  just 
made  him  the  happiest  of  created  things.  And  yet  he  dared 
not  ask  a  privilege  which  seemed  to  him  too  great  for  mortal 
enjoyment. 

"I  have  read  somewhere,"  he  added,  "though  I  do  not 
believe  it,  that  every  cloud  has  a  silver  lining;  that,  no 
matter  how  black  and  thunderous  it  may  appear,  there  is 
always  a  ray  of  light  to  relieve  it  of  a  portion  of  its  gloom, 
and  satisfy  the  beholder  that  all  is  not  darkness  within. 
The  reverse  of  the  picture  is  more  likely  to  be  true.  We 
see  more  frequently  the  tear  follow  the  smile,  than  the 
smile  succeeding  to  the  tear.  The  silver  lining  of  the  cloud 
is  not  always  visible,  and  sorrow  often  visits  us  without  an 
antidote  for  the  poison  it  infuses  into  the  heart.  On  the 
other  hand,  joy  never  makes  its  appearance  unless  accom- 
panied by  some  dark  shadow  to  sadden  the  sunshine  it  can- 
not altogether  destroy.  Even  so  was  it  with  the  rosy  beams 
which  fell  around  me  in  showers  of  radiance  when  those 
lips  confessed  that  I  had  won  the  priceless  treasure  of  your 
love.  In  that  blessed  hour,  at  the  very  moment  when  the 
feelings  which  were  swelling  in  my  bosom  would  not  have 
been  exchanged  for  the  raptures  of  heaven,  suddenly  and 
unexpectedly  came  the  shadow  and  the  night.  I  was  loved. 
I  knew  it ;  I  saw  it ;  I  felt  it.  I  was  loved,  and  of  that 
consciousness  I  could  not  be  deprived  until  the  soul,  as  well 
as  the  body,  had  undergone  the  sentence  of  annihilation. 
But  with  that  consciousness  came  the  bitter  injunction  that 
I  should  cease  to  worship,  or,  at  least,  that  I  should  wor- 
ship in  silence  and  afar  ofif,  when  ray  soul  was  yearning  to 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  135 

pour  forth  its  burning  tale  at  the  feet  of  the  object  of  its 
idolatry." 

Sophy  Rogers  had  listened  to  her  lover's  rhapsody  with 
an  interest  whose  intense  delight  was  akin  to  pain.  It  was 
a  delight  too  pure  for  gratified  vanity,  too  sacred  for  the 
presence  of  a  selfish  thought.  Occasionally  she  raised 
her  eyes  to  his;  for  a  moment  they  would  meet  his  gaze, 
into  which  was  thrown  a  pathos  and  a  pleading  eloquence 
that  words  cannot  describe ;  then  they  would  sink  again, 
while  a  warmer  flush  tinged  her  cheek,  and  her  little  hand 
could  just  be  felt  to  tremble  in  the  strong  grasp  that  held 
it.  At  other  times  the  long  silken  lashes  would  droop  un- 
til they  were  closed  as  if  in  slumber.  In  every  change  of 
feature  he  could  read  her  thoughts  as  plainly  as  if  they  had 
been  written  upon  a  scroll  illuminated  from  above.  She 
believed  all,  hoped  all,  trusted  all.  He  saw  it,  and  his  soul 
was  drunk  with  happiness.  If  love  like  hers  could  be  re- 
paid with  answering  love,  oh  1  how  lavishly  was  the  price 
thrown  at  her  feet !  In  his  opinion  the  incarnation  of  the 
poet's  dream  would  have  been  cold  and  lifeless  when  placed 
by  the  side  of  a  beauty  which  was  all  his  own.  Imagina- 
tion was  powerless  to  draw  a  picture  which  would  rival  the 
reality.  Even  the  words,  whose  strong  spirit  of  devotion 
had  impressed  them  on  his  memory,  now  seemed  tame  and 
lifeless,  as  he  inwardly  repeated  the  lines  : 

"Her  soul's  a  spotless  pearl — 
And  wlien  she  throws  her  shining  hair 
Back  from  her  brow  of  light, 
There's  nothing,  nothing  half  so  fair. 
So  clearly,  purely  white. 
And  then  her  breath,  the  warm  south  wind, 
Long  nestling  in  the  rose, 
May  somewhat  image  to  your  mind, 
Its  sweetness  as  it  flows. 


133  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

The  nectar  of  that  sinless  lip — ■ 
The  incense  of  that  breath, 
E'en  were  it  poison  I  could  sip, 
And  joy  in  drinking  death." 

There  was  a  brief  silence  when  he  ceased  to  speak,  the 
silence  of  unalloyed  happiness.     It  was  broken  by  her : 

"And  did  you  believe,  dear  Toby,  that  injunction  cost  me 
no  pain  ?  Oh  !  it  was  a  bitter,  bitter  trial,  but  it  was  a  duty ; 
and  if  our  duties  were  always  pleasant,  there  would  be  small 
merit  in  their  performance." 

"  You  were  right,  dearest,  and  I  was  very  wrong  to  mur- 
mur. Pardon  the  error,  for  it  sprung  from  love  for  you ; 
a  love  too  blind  and  headstrong  to  heed  the  voice  of 
reason." 

"N'ot  so,  Toby,  That  is  not  the  love  I  have  hugged  to 
my  heart  of  hearts  with  a  fervor  equal  to  your  own.  My 
love  is  based  on  reason.  From  that  fountain  comes  the 
invigorating  draught  which  gives  to  it  a  deathless  ex- 
istence." 

"I  am  rebuked,  justly  rebuked,"  he  replied  ;  "and  yet  if 
I  had  consulted  reason  I  should  never  have  sought  to  win 
your  love.  There  is  so  wide  a  gulf  between  us.  You  are 
so  pure  and  sinless ;  standing  upon  a  pinnacle  so  high  above 
me,  that  if  I  had  stopped  to  reason  I  should  have  turned 
coward,  and  lost  all." 

"  You  will  spoil  me,  Toby,  if  you  flatter  so.  If  such 
thoughts  come  into  your  mind,  keep  them  to  yourself.  I 
fear  they  are  already  too  sweet,  and,  coming  from  your  lips, 
I  am  too  willing  to  listen  to  them.  If  I  hear  them  much 
oftener,  they  may  breed  other  thoughts  which  are  surely 
sinful." 

Thus  the  innocent  girl,  with  gentle  modesty,  sought  to 
turn  the  conversation  from  herself,  and,  leading  the  way  to 
other  themes,  endeavored  to  direct  her  lover  from  compli- 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  137 

ments  which  she  deemed  extravagant,  and  language  which 
made  her  little  heart  beat  quicker  with  pleasure,  even  while 
she  feared  it  would  foster  the  sins  of  pride  and  self-right- 
eousness. 

But  his  thoughts  were  too  full  of  that  one  subject;  the 
temptation  to  dwell  upon  the  story  of  his  love,  after  the 
long  prohibition  which  had  sealed  his  lips,  was  too  great  to 
be  overcome  by  a  reproof  so  mild ;  and  several  times  in  the 
few  minutes  which  succeeded,  the  fault  was  repeated,  and 
each  time  the  rebuke  which  followed  was  less  positive  and 
decided.  There  was  still  one  subject  upon  which  they  had 
not  touched.  It  had  doubtless  occurred  to  the  minds  of 
both  more  than  once  during  their  conversation.  To  her  it 
was  prohibited  by  maidenly  reserve,  and  he  shrank  from  it 
with  that  inconsistent  timidity  which  so  often,  in  every-day 
life,  makes  us  hesitate  to  speak  the  wish  that  is  nearest  to 
our  hearts,  and  dread  the  utterance  of  a  request  we  would 
not  fail  to  prefer  for  all  the  rubies  of  earth.  It  was  not 
without  a  strong  mental  effort  that  Tobias  Wilson  at  last 
abruptly  "broke  the  ice;" 

"You  promised,  Sophy,  to  become  my  wife  whenever  I 
should  ask  it,  and  that  blessed  promise- has  been  to  me  a  joy 
no  tongue  can  express.  I  give  up  my  right  to  name  the 
day,  and  wait  to  hear  it  from  your  lips.  If  you  love  me, 
dearest,  as  I  love  you,  let  the  time  be  brief." 

"I  will  not  pretend," she  replied,  "that  I  did  not  expect 
this  proposal  to-day.  I  expected  you  to  make  it  the  first 
opportunity  you  had  of  doing  so,  and  in  truth  I  should 
have  felt  hurt  if  you  had  thought  so  little  of  my  promise 
as  not  to  have  recalled  it.  I  have  therefore  thought  it 
over,  with  all  its  consequences,  as  calmly  as  I  could  ;  and  in 
spite  of  my  earnest  wish  to  think  otherwise,  I  cannot  help 
feeling  that  our  marriage  now  would  be  imprudent.  Will 
you  not  agree,"  she  continued,  laying  her  hand  upon  his 


138  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

arm  ^and  looking  up  with  a  pleading  look  into  his  face, 
where  she  could  plainly  see  that  a  cloud  was  gathering, 
"will  you  not  consent  to  postpone  it  until  happier  times 
shall  come  to  bless  this  distracted  and  divided  land  ?" 

"IS'o  ! — no  ! — a  thousand  times  no.  You  surely  do  not 
mean  to  break  the  pledge  you  freely  gave  !" 

Her  eyes  fell,  and  a  shade  of  sadness  settled  on  her  face. 
Her  tone  was  reproachful,  but  her  voice  ^rm  and  steady,  as 
she  replied  : 

"Did  you  ever  know  me,  Tobias  Wilson,  to  break  a 
promise  once  given,  or  to  seek  to  evade  it  by  indirection? 
What  have  you  ever  seen  in  me  to  justify  the  cruel  suspi- 
cion you  have  just  allowed  yourself  to  express  ?  I  did 
make  that  promise  freely,  as  you  have  said,  and  it  shall  be 
redeemed  this  hour  if  you  demand  it." 

Humbled  and  abased  he  threw  himself  at  her  feet. 

"Pardon  me  !  Pardon  me  !  if  I  have  said  anvthino:  to 
wound  you.  I  would  not  bring  a  shadow  upon  that  brow 
for  all  the  stars  that  glitter  in  the  dome  of  heaven.  Xor 
am  I  base  enough  to  forget  that  your  promise  was  given  to 
save  my  soul  from  perdition,  and  that  it  would  be  ihe  act 
of  a  wicked  and  ungrateful  coward  to  hold  you  to  it.  You 
are  absolved  from  it  fully  and  entirely.  Decide  this  matter 
according  to  the  dictates  of  your  own  heart.  I  do  not 
even  ask  you  to  remember  the  impatience  of  mine." 

"jS"ot  so,  Toby.  I  will  not  take  advantage  of  your 
generosity.  My  father  and  your  mother  shall  decide  for 
us." 

She  extended  her  hand  as  she  spoke ;  he  clasped  it  in  his, 
raised  it  to  his  lips,  and,  still  holding  it,  led  her  into  the 
garden  where  Mrs.  Wilson  was  seemingly  engaged  in  "put- 
ting to  rights"  plants  and  shrubs  that  an  indifferent  specta- 
tor would  have  supposed  required  no  attention. 

The  object  of  their  coming  was  soon  explained.     Mrs. 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  139 

Wilson  called  them  her  dear,  good  children,  blessed  them 
fervently,  and  promised  to  decide  with  an  eye  single  to 
their  happiness.  But  she  would  give  no  opinion  until  the 
return  of  Mr.  Rogers,  who  was  not  looked  for  until  night- 
fall. It  was  arranged  that  Tobias  should  remain  to  dinner 
and  then  return  home.  In  a  few  days  he  was  told  that  he 
might  ride  over  and  hear  the  decision.  Sophy  noticed  the 
dissatisfied  expression  of  his  countenance  when  his  mother 
repeated  the  words,  in  a  few  days.  He  had  calculated 
upon  an  answer  the  next  day  at  furthest.  Bat  he  said  no- 
thing, and  Sophy's  faint  smile  was  the  only  commentary 
upon  his  evident  impatience. 

The  mid-day  meal  was  nearly  concluded  when  Mr. 
Rogers  rode  up  to  his  gate.  His  daughter  met  him  at  the 
door. 

''Welcome,  father!  But  we  did  not  expect  you  so 
soon  I" 

"Xo;  nor  did  I  expect  to  return  before  night.  But 
the  gentleman  I  went  to  see  had  been  summoned  on  a  cor- 
oner's jury,  and  I  only  remained  long  enough  to  hear  the 


news." 


"A  coroner's  jury !"  repeated  Mrs.  Wilson.  "Who  is 
dead  ?" 

"Joshua  Wilkins,  the  conscript  officer  for  this  district, 
was  shot  in  the  road  yesterday  within  a  mile  of  his  house. 
He  was  a  bad  man,  engaged  in  a  bad  cause,  a  relentless 
executor  of  a  merciless  law,  and  few  will  mourn  his  death, 
though  many  will  pity  his  family," 

"Who  shot  him,  and  what  was  it  for?"  asked  Mrs.  Wil- 
son and  Sophy,  speaking  eagerly  and  at  once. 

"As  to  what  it  was  for,  he  has  given  cause  enough  to 
many  a  father  in  this  county  to  take  away  his  life.  Who 
did  shoot  him  is  a  mystery.  No  traces  were  discovered  of 
his  slayer.     It  is  said,  however,  that  the  ball  that  killed 


140  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

him  must  have  come  from  a  soldier's  gun,  as  no  rifle  in  this 
country  would  inflict  such  a  wound." 

A  flood  of  light  flashed  upon  Tobias  Wilson.     He  re- 
membered that,  on  the  day  before,  Thomas  Rogers,  when 

starting  to  visit  Colonel ,  had  carried  a  Spencer  rifle. 

He  knew  that  by  making  a  circuit  of  something  more  than 
two  miles,  he  could  have  passed  not  far  from  the  house  of 
Wilkins.  He  recollected  that  the  horse  had  the  appear- 
ance of  having  been  ridden  hard  on  its  return,  and  that 
Thomas  himself  seemed  hurried  and  disturbed,  and  the 
conviction  was  forced  upon  him  that  that  deed  of  blood  lay 
at  the  door  of  his  friend.  He  was  now  very  anxious  to 
return  home,  and  only  awaited  the  conclusion  of  Mr.  Ro- 
gers's meal  to  do  so.  He  sought  an  opportunity  to  whis- 
per to  Sophy:  "I  shall  be  back  the  day  after  to-morrow. 
Don't  let  them  keep  me  in  suspense  any  longer  than  that." 
Then  mounting  his  horse,  he  rode  as  rapidly  as  the  ground  . 
would  permit  to  his  own  house. 

He  found  Thomas  Rogers  sitting  by  the  side  of  Sergeant 
Miller,  in  whom  he  appeared  to  take  an  interest  for  which 
Tobias  Wilson  could  not  account. 

''Welcome  home,  Toby.  I  have  worked  a  little  in  your 
crop  to-day,  though  not  a  great  deal.  In  truth,  it  does 
not  need  work  as  much  as  I  thought  when  I  told  father  I 
would  remain  here  for  awhile  and  help  you." 

Tobias  returned  his  greeting,  thanked  him  for  what  he 
had  done,  and  added  that  the  greater  part  of  the  crop 
would  need  no  further  work.  The  little  that  remained 
he  could  easily  get  through  without  assistance. 

"But  I  must  have  an  excuse  for  remaining  here,"  an- 
swered Rogers,  "and  that  is  the  best  one  I  can  find.  So  I 
shall  even  go  out  into  the  field  and  plow  a  few  furrows  oc- 
casionally, in  order  that  I  may  say  with  truth  that  I  am 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  141 

helping  you.     Did  you  gather  any  news  while  you  were 
gone  ?" 

"Yesl  I  heard  that  Joshua  Wilkins  had  been  shot  by 
some  unknown  person,  and  they  were  to-day  holding  a 
coroner's  inquest  over  the  body." 

"A  coroner's  inquest!  I  thought  that  thing  had  been 
'played  out'  in  this  latitude."  Then  he  added  bitterly, 
"  Oh  !  I  forgot  that  he  was  a  conscript  officer.  If  it  had 
been  you  or  me,  they  would  have  buried  us  like  a  dog, 
without  troubling  themselves  to  inquire  who  did  the  deed. 
It  is  a  blessed  thing  to  be  a  loyal  citizen  of  the  great  and 
glorious  Confederacy.     What  say  you,  sergeant." 

"I  can't  say  as  I  think  so,  sir: — unless  it's  a  feller  who's 
bound  to  go  to  hell  any  way.  If  he's  young  enough  for  a 
soldier,  there's  no  telling  what  temptations  to  wickedness 
will  be  thrown  in  his  way.  If  he's  too  old  for  that,  they 
are  certain  to  make  him  a  hater  and  reviler  and  persecutor 
of  his  neighbor  who  don't  happen  to  think  exactly  as  he 
does.  Now,  there's  Capt.  Wilkins,  who  is  said  to  have  once 
been  a  good  neighbor  and  a  clever  man,  and  yet  he's  brought 
tears  enough  into  helpless  eyes  in  the  last  two  years  to 
make  a  good  sized-creek." 

"He  will  never  cause  any  more  to  flow,"  said  Wilson, 
rising.     "God  forgive  him  the  evil  he  has  done." 

The  two  friends  went  out  to  attend  to  the  usual  duties 
about  the  farm.  When  they  returned,  an  ample  supply  of 
fuel  was  provided  for  the  night's  consumption,  and  a  cheer- 
ful fire  was  soon  blazing  in  both  rooms  of  the  cabin.  Draw- 
ing his  friend  into  the  apartment  where  their  conversation 
could  not  be  overheard  by  Miller,  Tobias  entered  upon  the 
subject  which,  during  the  whole  evening,  had  occupied  the 
first  place  in  his  thoughts. 

"I  do  not  want  your  confidence,  Thomas.  Indeed,  if 
what  I  suspect  is  true,  I  can  serve  you  much  better  by  re- 


142  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

maining  in  ignorance  of  what  you  may  have  to  tell.  I  can 
see  dangers  thickening  around  you,  and  it  is  of  that  I  wish 
to  speak.  I  am  no  soldier,  but  it  is  plain  enough  to  me 
that  in  a  few  weeks  the  Union  troops  will  be  withdrawn 
from  this  vicinity  to  fight  battles  at  Chattanooga.  When 
that  is  done,  you  cannot  doubt  that  there  will  be  a  rigid 
examination  into  the  facts  and  circumstances  connected 
with  Joshua  Wilkins's  death.  If  you  are  once  suspected, 
your  fate  is  sealed  ;  for  they  will  require  little  proof  to  jus- 
tify, in  their  opinion,  the  most  rigorous  measures  against 
one  who  is  known  to  entertain  such  decided  Union  senti- 
ments. Have  you  thought  of  this,  and  adopted  any  plan 
for  future  security  ?" 

"I  have  thought  of  it,  certainly;  but  I  have  adopted  no 
plan.  First,  because  a  great  deal  depends  on  circumstances 
hereafter  to  happen ;  and  secondly,  there  is  no  need  to  be 
in  a  hurry.  If  the  Union  troops  remain  in  this  neighbor- 
hood for  two  weeks,  and  Colonel  gave  it  as  his 

opinion  that  they  would  be  here  four  weeks  at  least,  I 
shall  have  time  enough." 

There  was  a  pause  of  several  minutes.  At  length  Rogers 
asked : 

''  Did  you  not  tell  me  that  your  grandfather,  just  before 
his  death,  contemplated  raising  a  company  of  Union  men 
for  mutual  defense,  and  that  you  had  together  sought  and 
found  a  safe  place  for  the  concealment  of  arms  and  ammu- 
nition?" 

''I  did.     I  will  show  it  to  you  to-morrow." 

"It  must  be  early,  then.  I  must  ride  a  good  distance 
to-morrow.     When  are  you  and  Sophy  to  be  married?" 

"I  do-  not  know.  Your  father  and  my  mother  are  to 
settle  it.  I  go  over  the  day  after  to-morrow  to  receive  my 
answer." 

"I  hope  there  will  be  no  delay.    When  you  are  married, 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  143 

you  can  take  my  place  at  home,  and  I  will  remain  here  to 

look  after  your  affairs,  until  the  dawning  of  a  better  day 

enables  us  to  live  in  peace  and  security." 

Whatever  Wilson  may  have  thought  of  this  arrangement, 

he  made  no  remark  upon  it.     Reverting  to  the  previous 

declaration  of  Rogers,  that  he  had  a  long  distance  to  ride 

on  the  next  day,  he  inquired  what  it  meant. 
"I  am  sioincr  to  Joshua  Wilkins's  funeral." 
"You !"'  exclaimed  Wilson  in  astonishment.     "Are  you 

mad  ?     It  is  the  worst  secession  nest  in  America.    A  band 

of  conscript  guards  or  guerrillas  will  no  doubt  be  there. 

The  best  you  can  expect  is  to  be  conscripted,  and  taken 

off  south  of  the  Tennessee  River." 

"I  shall  not  go  alone.     It  is  not  yet  eight  o'clock.     In 

an  hour  from  this  time  the  few  citizens  on  the  road  to  Col- 
onel   *s  quarters  will  be  asleep.    By  hard  riding  I  can 

go  there  and  return  by  one  o'clock  or  before.  I  will  ar- 
range with  him  to  send  a  company  of  cavalry  to  capture 
the  funeral  party,  and  I  will  cross  the  mountain  by  Jim 
Biles's  house  in  time  to  have  a  hand  in  the  skirmish,  if  there 
should  be  one.  Parson  Williams  will  be  there,  for  there  is 
no  other  Baptist  minister  living  near  enough  to  preach  the 
funeral  sermon.  Jim  Biles  will  also  certainly  be  there. 
We  may  catch  them  both,  and  if  we  do,  the  proofs-we  can 
brins:  against  them  will  not  be  treated  as  lightly  by  a  Fed- 
era!  officer  as  by  a  Confederate  jury." 

Within  the  hour  designated,  Thomas  Rogers  was  in  the 
saddle,  riding  away  from  his  friend's  house;  and  Tobias 
Wilson  went  to  bed  with  a  lighter  heart  than  he  had  ex- 
pected would  that  night  beat  in  his  bosom.  He  thought 
he  saw  a  fair  prospect  that  the  murderers  of  his  grandfather 
would-speedily  be  brought  to  justice,  and  his  friend  would 
thus  be  saved  from  imbruing  his  hands  in  more  blood  than 
he  was  persuaded  already  stained  them.     The  feeling  of 


144  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

satisfaction  which  was  diffused  through  his  mind,  had  its 
effect  upon  the  body  also,  and  he  sank  into  a  deep  and 
moveless  sleep,  which  lasted  until  the  return  of  Kogers,  long 
after  midni2:ht. 

Thomas  Rogers  exhibited  no  evidence  of  fatigue  from 
his  night's  ride.  He  was  quickly  undressed,  and  merely  re- 
marking that  everything  had  been  arranged  to  his  satis- 
faction, threw  himself  upon  the  bed  and  slept  until  day- 
break. • 

The  reader  may  as  well  be  told  at  once  that  he  had  not 
dealt  quite  candidly  with  his  friend.  He  had  told  him  no- 
thing that  was  not  literally  true, — he  only  concealed  the 
fact  that  he  was  resolved  Parson  Williams  should  never  be 
taken  alive  while  he  was  by,  with  a  rifle  in  his  hand.  He 
cared  very  little  how  Biles  met  his  death,  so  he  did  meet 
it;  but  the  parson  he  regarded  as  his  own  especial  prop- 
erty, and  could  not  bring  himself  to  look  upon  his  punifeh- 
ment  by  any  one  else  with  complacency.  He  saw  no  ne- 
cessity for  communicating  this  fact  to  Wilson,  and  allowed 
him  to  indulge  whatever  speculations  he  pleased  without 
attempting  to  undeceive  him. 


CHAPTER  yill. 

The  young  men  whom  we  left  sleeping  at  the  end  of  the 
last  chapter  were  astir  with  the  first  light  of  the  morning. 
A  few  minutes  only  were  devoted  to  the  business  of  dress- 
ing themselves  for  the  day.     As  soon  as  it  was  over,  Ro- 
gers proposed  that  they  should  at  once  pay  a  visit  to  the 
place  Mr.  Johnson  had  selected  for  the  concealment  of  arms 
and  ammunition.     Tobias  led  the  way  to  the  cave  from 
which  flowed  the  spring  that  formed  the  "branch"  running 
by  the  house,  and  making  its  way  out  at  the  southern  ex- 
tremity of  the  valley.     The  mouth  of  the  cave  was  a  kind 
of  low  arch,  formed  of  rugged  stones,  whose  sharp  edges 
jutted  out  from  either  side,  and  made  deep  seams  in  the 
roof.     The  cavity  was  nearly  as  high  at  the  entrance  as  a 
man's  head,  but  the  whole  width  of  the  bottom  was  covered 
with  water,  and  Rogers  looked  in  vain  for  any  mode  of  in- 
gress.    Upon  the  right-hand  side  there  was  a  pile  of  loose 
stones.     When  these  were  removed,   Rogers  observed  a 
narrow  ledge  of  rock,  some  feet  above  the  water,  barely 
wide  enough  for  the  passage  of  one  human  body  at  a  time. 

"Follow  me,"  said  Wilson,  stepping  upon  the  ledge. 
"And  look  out  that  you  don't  break  your  head  against  the 
rocks  above  us,  and  take  care  of  your  footsteps,  for  this 
passage  is  by  no  means  as  smooth  as  a  turnpike  road." 

In  a  few  yards  the  cave  widened  considerably,  and  the 
roof  was  much  higher.  The  rocky  ledge  gradually  dipped 
down  until  it  was  lost  in  the  more  level  surface  of  the  bot- 

13*  (U5) 


146  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

torn  of  the  cavern.  The  side  along  which  they  were  groping 
their  way,  stumbling  as  they  did  so  over  huge  stones,  or  slip- 
ping on  their  slimy  surface,  was  of  solid  rock,  indented  here 
and  there  with  vast  crevices.  Counting  until  he  reached  the 
fourth  one  of  these  crevices,  Tobias  Wilson  stepped  into 
it,  and  turning  a  sharp  angle  to  the  right,  in  a  few  steps 
they  found  themselves  in  a  large  and  dry  room.  The  ma- 
terials for  striking  a  light  had  been  placed  there  by  Mr. 
Johnson.  These  were  found,  and  two  candles  lighted. 
Crossing  to  the  opposite  side  they  found  an  ascending  en- 
trance to  another  compartment,  so  low  that  they  had  to 
crawl  on  their  hands  and  knees.  The  passage,  however, 
was  short,  and  they  soon  came  to  the  inner  side.  This  room 
was  smaller  than  the  one  they  had  just  left,  but  with  a  lof- 
tier ceiling.  High  up,  apparently  many  hundred  feet  above 
their  heads,  they  could  see  streaks  of  light,  which  no  doubt 
came  through  crevices  of  the  mountain.  It  was  also  evi- 
dent that  it  must  be  tolerably  well  ventilated  from  some 
quarter,  perhaps  from  similar  crevices  in  the  sides  to  those 
in  the  roof.  The  air  was  light  and  dry,  and  the  candles 
slightly  flickered  as  from  the  breath  of  a  gentle  breeze. 
Rogers  observed  the  traces  of  a  fire,  and  a  quantity  of 
wood  piled  on  one  side. 

"My  grandfather  and  I,"  said  Wilson,  "built  that  fire 
to  see  if  the  smoke  would  make  its  way  out  at  any  place 
which  would  betray  the  presence  of  human  beings  in  here. 
We  kept  it  burning  for  two  days,  but  could  not  detect  the 
escape  of  smoke  anywhere.  It  must  have  gone  straight 
up,  and  made  its  way  out  so  slowly  and  in  such  small  quan- 
tities, as  not  to  be  distinguishable  from  the  vapor  rising 
from  the  valley  and  setting  on  the  mountain." 

Rolling  a  large  stone  to  one  side,  an  aperture  was  visi- 
ble, and  bidding  Rogers  look  in,  be  said :      ^ 

"There  you  will  find  a  place  where  you  can  stow  away 


TOBIAS    ^VILSON.  ^  l^T 

thousands  of  muskets  and  as  many  pounds  of  powder  and 
lead  as  you  please,  witli  little  danger  of  discovery." 

It  was  indeed  a  hiding-place  not  likely  to  be  detected 
by  any  human  scrutiny,  and  Thomas  Rogers  expressed 
himself  decidedly  to  that  effect.  On  his  way  back  he 
made  a  careful  survey  of  the  room  they  had  first  entered, 
and  taking  the  light  with  him  in  order  to  have  a  better 
view  than  that  afforded  by  the  glimmer  from  the  mouth  of 
the  cave,  he  examined  the  crevices  in  the  wall,  noted  their 
peculiar  shape,  and  counted  the  number.  His  examination 
also  extended  to  the  great  boulders  over  which  they  had 
stumbled  in  their  entrance.  Emerging  once  more  into 
daylight,  he  said : 

"I  could  find  my  way  in  and  out  now  if  I  were  blind- 
folded. Thank  you,  Toby.  You  have  done  me  many  a 
kindness;  but  this  may  prove  the  most  valuable  of  all. 
Now  let  us  go  to  the  stable.  My  horse  must  be  well  rubbed 
and  fed;  he  has  a  hard  day's  work  before  him." 

"You  had  better  take  mine.  Yours  must  have  suffered 
from  last  night's  ride." 

"  I  did  not  ride  him.  I  rode  Miller's,  and,  by  Jove,  it 
has  been  a  long  time  since  I  mounted  such  an  animal  I" 

"From  his  own  account,  he  had  an  excellent  chance  to 
pick  a  good  one,"  answered  Wilson  dryly. 

"  Come,  Toby,  you  must  get  over  that  prejudice.  I  owe 
Miller  more  than  you  dream  of.  He  has  given  me  inform- 
ation which  I  hope  will  enable  me  to  clear  these  mount- 
ains of  the  robbers  who  infest  them,  and  furnished  me  a 
clew  to  the  doings  of  many  a  sneaking  devil  who  now 
passes  for  a  quiet  and  orderly  citizen." 

They  entered  the  stable-yard  as  he  spoke,  and  the  sub- 
ject was  dropped  for  the  present.  Tobias  went  about  his 
work  directly  after  breakfast,  and  Rogers,  seating  himself 
by  the  side  of  Miller,  had  another  long  conference  with  the 


148  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

wounded  man.  When  that  was  ended,  he  mounted  his 
horse,  and  rode  through  the  field  to  the  point  at  which 
Kobert  Johnson  had  been  murdered,  taking,  as  before,  the 
rifle  and  accoutrements  of  Jenkins.  As  he  rode  near  the 
place  where  Wilson  was  at  work,  he  waved  his  hand  and 
shouted : 

"Look  out  for  me  bv  sundown." 

Up  the  steep  mountain  path  he  urged  his  steed,  until  he 
came  within  a  mile  of  Biles's  house.  Here  he  made  a  cir- 
cuit, to  avoid  being  seen  at  the  house,  and  again  "  struck" 
the  path  far  beyond  the  residence  of  that  worthy.  Look- 
ing at  his  watch,  he  found  that  it  was  just  eleven  o'clock. 

"I  shall  have  time  enough,"  he  thought  ;  "they  will 
hardly  begin  the  funeral  ceremonies  before  twelve  o'clock, 
and  my  horse  will  walk  the  distance  before  that  time. 
Come,  Robin,"  he  said,  addressing  the  horse,  and  reining 
him  down  to  a  slower  pace,  "we'll  take  it  leisurely  now. 
It  is  probable  you  will  need  your  wind  before  long." 

Riding  slowly  down  the  mountain  in  the  direction  of 
Wilkins's  house,  he  had  not  made  more  than  half  the  dis- 
tance, when  he  heard  a  horse's  feet  thundering  up  the  stony 
path.  Riding  a  little  to  one  side  and  hitching  his  horse 
among  some  bushes,  he  returned  to  the  path  upon  which 
the  approaching  horseman  must  soon  make  his  appearance. 

"Halt!"  he  shouted  in  a  voice  of  thunder,  when  the 
fugitive  had  turned  a  corner  of  rock,  and  was  within  fifty 
yards  of  the  place  where  he  was  standing.  The  horseman 
tried  to  rein  up,  but  the  speed  at  which  he  was  going 
brought  him  within  twenty  feet  of  his  challenger  before 
he  succeeded. 

"What's  your  hurry  this  morning,  Mr.  Biles?"  asked 
Rogers,  while  a  baleful  fire  flashed  from  his  eyes  which 
boded  no  good  to  the  wretch  before  him. 

"The  soldiers  are  after  me." 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  149 

"Indeed!  and  where  may  you  have  been  to  meet  with 
the  soldiers  V 

"To  Joshua  Wilkins's  funeral.  We  got  a  hint  that  a 
company  of  Yankees  had  left  the  camp  before  daylight  this 
morning,  and  Parson  Williams  hurried  on  the  funeral  for 
fear  we  might  be  interrupted.  The  grave  was  hardly  cov- 
ered, when  news  came  that  the  enemy  were  in  less  than 

three  hundred  yards.   Captain 's  rangers  were  formed 

behind  the  houses  to  stop  the  Yankees  until  the  others  got 
safely  away." 

"And  what  became  of  Parson  Williams?" 

"  He  went  up  the  valley  with  a  friend,  and  I  reckon  he 's 
safe  " 

"God  grant  it!"  muttered  Rogers.  Then  in  a  louder 
tone  went  on  with  his  questions. 

"He  is  such  a  friend  of  yours,  I  should  have  thought  he 
would  have  taken  the  direction  of  your  house.  When  did 
he  last  sleep  under  your  roof?" 

This  was  a  home  thrust,  and  Biles  turned  deadly  pale  as 
he  answered  : 

"I  don't  know  exactly.     It's  been  a  good  while." 

"I  think  not.  I  think  I  met  him  coming  from  your 
house  the  day  after  Robert  Johnson  was  murdered." 

The  terror  which  now  shook  the  frame  of  the  guilty 
criminal  was  pitiful  to  behold.  He  could  not  tell  to  what 
these  questions  pointed,  but  the  tone  and  manner  of  the 
questioner  were  calculated  to  make  him  fear  the  worst. 
In  public  and  in  presence  of  his  rebel  friends,  he  would 
have  braved  it  out  manfully ;  but  he  was  alone,  alone  with 
the  memory  of  his  crime  and  its  avenger;  and  he  cowered 
with  an  abject  fear  that  awakened  the  deepest  scorn  of  his 
enemy. 

"I  know  all,  Jim  Biles,"  he  continued.  "You  have  no- 
thing to  tell  me.     I  know  where  and  when  you  plotted  that 


150  TOBIAS    WILSOX. 

damnable  murder.  I  know  that  Josh  Wilkins  and  Ben 
"Williams  came  to  your  house  to  carry  it  out ;  that  Wil- 
liams remained  with  you  the  night  after  it  was  done,  and 
no  doubt  had  family  prayers,  and  thanked  God  that  there 
was  a  Union  man  the  less  in  this  county.  Oh  !  I  can  read 
it  all.  And  now,  sir,  your  time  has  come.  Two  days  ago 
I  sent  Josh  Wilkins  to  his  long  account.  You  will  join 
him  to-day.  Parson  Williams  will  soon  follow.  It  would 
be  a  pity  to  separate  such  Iambs  of  God  for  any  length  of 
time  in  the  world  to  come." 

"  Spare  me !"  shrieked  the  craven-hearted  villain.  "  For 
mercy's  sake,  spare  me  !  I  did  not  kill  him;  Parson  Wil- 
liams and  Wilkins  shot  him.  Indeed,  indeed,  I  did  not 
fire." 

"I  know  you  didn't;  but  it  was  because  two  bullets 
were  enough  to  finish  the  work.  If  another  had  been 
needed,  you  were  there  to  give  it.  You  helped  to  drag 
him  from  his  field,  and  it  may  have  been  your  hand  which 
felled  him  with  that  murderous  club.  Waste  no  time  in 
prayers  to  me.  I  give  you  three  minutes  to  utter  one  to 
your  God.     At  the  end  of  that  time  I  shall  fire." 

The  dastard,  who  had  not  hesitated  to  imbrue  his  hands 
in  the  blood  of  an  old  and  peaceful  man,  for  a  mere  differ- 
ence of  political  opinion,  now  rolled  down  upon  the  mane 
of  his  horse  in  brutish  terror, — sobbing,  groaning,  and 
vehemently  protesting  his  innocence  of  any  part  in  the  last 
scene  of  the  murder. 

"  Coward  and  dog,  as  well  as  murderer !''  thundered 
Rogers  with  bitter  contempt;   "you  have  a  gun, — use  it." 

"It  aint  loaded,"  groaned  Biles.  "I  fired  at  the  Yan- 
kees, and  didn't  have  time  to  load." 

"So  much  the  worse  for  you.  Two  minutes  of  your 
time  is  gone." 

Like  lightning  the  idea  flashed  upon  Biles  that  if  he 


TOBIAS    WILS  ox.  151 

could  get  back  to  the  soldiers,  his  life  at  least  would  be 
saved.  Gathering  strength  and  resolution  from  this  hope, 
he  suddenly  straightened  himself  in  the  saddle,  wheeled  his 
horse,  and  striking  the  spurs  deep  into  his  flanks,  fled  down 
the  mountain  at  a  pace  dangerous  alike  to  man  and  beast. 
Desperate  as  this  attempt  may  seem,  there  was  a  fair 
chance  for  its  success,  unless  the  horse  should  stumble,  and 
break  its  own  or  the  rider's  neck.  The  danger  from  this 
source  was  lessened  in  the  present  instance  by  the  fact  that 
Biles  was  riding  a  young  horse  which  had  been  reared  on 
the  mountain,  who  had  again  and  again  traversed  all  its 
stony  paths,  and  was  as  familiar  with,  and  as  much  at 
home  among  them,  as  the  Arab  steed  with  the  parched 
plains  of  the  desert.  Quick  as  had  been  his  movements, 
they  were  not  too  quick  for  the  keen  eye  that  watched  him. 
The  goaded  steed  had  made  but  little  headway,  when  the 
rifle  of  Thomas  Rogers  rose  to  his  shoulder.  One  mo- 
ment he  held  it  there,  as  firmly  and  steadily  as  if  man  and 
rifle  were  carved  from  the  solid  rock.  Then  a  volume  of 
smoke  and  flame  belched  from  its  muzzle,  and  a  ringing  re- 
port reverberated  among  the  mountain  crags.  To  all  ap- 
pearance Biles  held  his  seat  firmly.  A  few  bounds  of  the 
horse  carried  him  around  the  projecting  crag  before  alluded 
to.  Running  rapidly  to  a  point  where  he  knew  he  could 
obtain  another  shot,  and  reloading  his  gun  as  he  ran,  Ro- 
gers muttered,  "I  couldn't  have  missed  him.  It  is  impos- 
sible!" 

At  the  point  for  which  he  aimed  he  saw  the  horse,  which, 
owing  to  the  bends  in  the  path,  was  still  not  more  than  a 
hundred  yards  from  him,  madly  rushing  down  the  mountain. 
The  saddle  was  empty  ;  the  steed  was  riderless.  "  I  thought 
so!"  was  the  inward  commentary  of  Rogers.  "There 
would  have  been  no  excuse  for  missing  a  wild  pigeon  at 
that  distance." 


152  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

Leaning  over  the  crag  lie  saw  the  body  of  Biles,  still 
alive,  lying  in  the  pathway.  Scrambling  down  the  cliff,  he 
was  soon  standing  by  the  prostrate  form.  It  was  evident 
that  Jim  Biles's  lease  of  life  was  very  near  its  end,  but  the 
ball  had  entered  too  low  to  cause  immediate  death.  It 
might  be  several  days  before  the  spirit  took  its  flight.  With 
good  care  and  nursing  he  would  probably  last  a  week. 
Thomas  Roge'rs  was  much  perplexed  when  he  became  sat- 
isfied of  this  fact.  "If  I  leave  him  here,"  he  thought, 
"  and  any  of  his  friends  should  come  this  way,  as  is  by  no 
means  unlikely,  in  their  hasty  flight  from  the  Union  cavalry, 
they  will  soon  revive  him  enough  to  enable  him  to  tell  how 
he  came  by  his  death,  and  also  who  it  was  who  cut  short 
the  career  of  that  devil  incarnate,  Joshua  Wilkins.  If 
they  do  not  find  him,  he  will  be  torn  to  pieces  by  the  wolves 
before  morning,  and  thus  perish  as  miserably  as  he  deserves. 
If  the  fool  hadn't  tried  to  run,  I  do  not  believe  I  should 
have  had  the  heart  to  shoot  him.  I  reckon  the  fates  had 
fixed  it  their  own  way,  for  he  rushed  upon  his  doom  just 
when  I  was  thinking  of  tying  him  and  taking  him  down  to 
Colonel ,  to  dispose  of  as  he  thought  best." 

There  was  a  momentary  pause  in  his  musings.  He 
looked  keenly  down  the  mountain  side,  then  placed  his  ear 
to  the  ground  and  listened  attentively. 

"It  is  nothing,"  he  continued.  "A  sound  from  below 
will  reach  me  long  before  any  danger  can  approach.  This 
wound  troubles  me ;  he  will  certainly  revive  before  death ; 
even  now  he  is  more  stunned  by  his  fall  than  paralyzed  by 
the  effects  of  my  shot.  It  is  hard  to  finish  a  man  in  this 
fix ;  and  yet  if  I  do  not,  I  put  my  own  life  and  that  of  my 
friends  in  fearful  jeopardy.  Well,  as  Parson  Williams 
would  say,  *I  have  put  my  hand  to  the  plow  and  must  not 
turn  back.'  I  cannot  leave  him  here  alive.  If  Parson 
Williams  was  out  of  the  way,  I  wouldn't  care  much  how 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  153 

soon  the  whole  story  was  told.  I  could  then  go  off  with 
the  Union  army,  and,  if  necessary,  enlist  in  a  cavalry  com- 
pany. But  I  will  not  leave  here  while  there  is  a  breath  in 
his  infernal  carcass.  Nor  must  I  allow  him  a  chance  to  be 
warned  of  his  danger.  The  short  and  the  long  of  it  is, 
that  I  must  put  an  end  to  Jim  Biles.  It's  a  bitter  pill,  but 
it  has  to  be  swallowed.  Besides,  when  I  undertook  this 
job  I  had  no  right  to  expect  smooth  sailing  all  the  time. 
I  might  have  known  that  there  would  be  things  to  be  gone 
through  as  disagreeable  as  they  were  dangerous."  So 
saying,  he  walked  off  eight  or  ten  feet  and  raised  his  rifle 
to  his  shoulder,  cocking  it  as  he  did  so.  In  an  instant  he 
let  it  sink  slowly  down. 

"No,  that  won't  do.  There  is  no  prudence  in  making 
an  unnecessary  noise  among  these  rocks,  solitary  as  they 
seem.  Nor  will  it  do  to  use  ray  knife.  I  shall  be  sure  to 
get  some  of  his  poisonous  blood  upon  me,  and  have  to 
make  up  some  lame  tale  to  hoodwink  Toby.  This  cliff 
will  answer  the  purpose  better." 

Dragging  the  body  to  the  brink  of  a  precipice  of  more 
than  fifty  feet  in  height,  he  hurled  it  down,  and  walking 
away  without  casting  one  look  at  the  mangled  form,  he 
mounted  his  horse  and  set  out  on  his  return.  Giving  his 
steed  a  loose  rein,  and  allowing  him  to  proceed  at  what 
gait  he  pleased,  he  continued  the  self-colloquy  which  was 
habitual  to  him.  ' 

"Things  have  not  worked  precisely  to  suit  me  to-day, 
though  I  have  no  great  cause  to  grumble.  If  I  had  only 
got  to  Wilkins's  in  time  to  have  sent  a  bullet  after  Parson 
Williams,  I  should  have  felt  better.  The  scoundrel  will 
smell  a  mouse  now  and  keep  close.  It  is  true  that  a  shadow 
of  suspicion  cannot  attach  to  me,  or  to  any  one  in  partic- 
ular. But  the  sudden  and  unexplained  death  of  his  two 
accomplices  will  blanch  that  hardened  heart  of  his,  and 

14 


154  TOBIAS     WILSOX. 

his  conscience  will  whisper  that  it  has  grown  out  of  the 
murder  in  which  he  had  so  large  a  part.  He  will  not  show 
himself  in  a  hurry,  I'm  thinking,  if  he  can  help  it.  I  will 
have  to  change  my  tactics.  It  is  certain  that  his  ugly  phiz 
won't  be  seen  on  this  side  of  the  mountain  while  there  is  a 
Union  soldier  in  the  neighborhood.  I  must  wait  and 
watch.  May  be  Toby  will  bring  some  news  to-morrow 
that  will  help  me  to  a  conclusion.  Xow,  Robin,"  he  con- 
tinued, tightening  the  rein  and  touching  his  steed  with  the 
spur,  "  make  tracks  for  home.  Faster,  sir,  faster,  my  pet. 
There  is  work  to  be  done  when  we  get  there,  before  the 
sun  goes  down." 

Riding  through  the  field,  along  the  turning  row,  close  to 
where  his  friend  was  at  work,  he  called  out :  "  Come,  Toby, 
you  have  worked  enough  to-day.  It  is  time  to  turn  out. 
Come  on  to  the  house." 

"You  forget  that  I  will  lose  a  day  to-morrow.  I  must 
stick  to  it  to-day  until  the  sun  goes  down." 

"Never  mind  that!  I  will  work  for  you  to-morrow. 
Come  on." 

He  did  not  wait  for  a  reply,  hardly  pausing  an  instant 
before  continuing  on  his  way  to  the  house.  Arriving 
there  he  quickly  stabled  his  horse ;  then,  entering  the  room 
where  Sergeant  Miller  was  lying,  he  took  down  the  rifle 
and  accoutrements  belonging  to  the  wounded  man,  except 
the  revolver,  and  immediately  went  out  again,  merely  re- 
marking to  the  sergeant,  "  I'll  tell  you  what  I  have  done 
when  I  come  back."  From  the  house  he  went  directly  to 
the  cave,  carrying  the  two  Spencer  rifles,  ammunition,  etc. 
with  him.  There  was  no  hesitation  in  his  movements; 
everything  had  been  reflected  upon  and  decided.  The 
arms  were  safely  hiJlden  in  the  place  pointed  out  by  Wilson 
that  morning ;  and  with  a  satisfied  expression  upon  his  face, 
he  emerged  from  the  cave.    He  paused  a  minute  by  the  pile 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  155 

of  loose  stones  near  the  entrance,  as  if  hesitating  whether 
to  replace  them.     His  decision  was  soon  made. 

"It  isn't  worth  while.  No  one  will  ever  suspect  where 
that  ledge  leads.  It  looks  as  if  a  coon  hadn't  passed  over 
it  in  a  century ;  I  rather  think  it  is  safest  to  leave  it  ex- 
posed. If  anybody  should  get  to  tumbling  these  rocks 
about  and  find  that  the  ledge  was  hidden  by  them,  he  might 
take  it  into  his  head  to  make  further  explorations.  I  don't 
think  he  would  make  any  discoveries  if  he  did,  but  there  is 
no  telling.  Toby  says  he  found  it  by  accident,  and  he  is 
sure  no  human  being  but  Mr.  Johnson  ever  knew  it  was 
there,  until  he  showed  it  to  me  this  morning.  It  is  best  to 
leave  the  stones  where  they  are.  I'll  just  throw  a  few  of 
them  into  the  spring,  in  little  piles,  to  give  them  an  appear- 
ance of  having  been  put  there  as  stepping  stones  to  get  to 
deeper  water,  and,  by-the-way,  I  will  hollow  out  a  place  to 
help  on  the  deception." 

Even  while  speaking  he  had  begun  his  work.  "When  it 
was  completed  to  his  satisfaction,  he  returned  to  the  house 
and  informed  Miller  that  he  had  hidden  the  guns,  etc.,  be- 
cause he  thought  it  possible  the  cabins  might  be  searched, 
and  if  they  were,  the  guns  would  surely  be  carried  off.  He 
gave  no  reason  for  his  suspicion  that  a  search  might  be  in- 
stituted, and  Miller  asked  for  none — only  saying: 

"Wouldn't  it  be  better  to  hide  your  rifles,  and  the  re- 
volvers too  ?" 

"No ;  for  everybody  in  this  section  knows  that  we  have 
rifles,  and  never  go  from  home  without  them.  If  they  were 
missing  it  would  create  suspicion  ;  they  would  hunt  for  them, 
and  might  find  something  more  valuable,  though  I  don't 
think  that  is  probable — hardly  possible.  As  for  the  revolvers, 
I  have  hidden  one  in  my  bosom,"  he  said,  opening  his  vest, 
and  showing  the  weapon  belted  around  him,  underneath 
his  outer  garments;  "and  I  want  you  to  hide  the  other 


156  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

under  your  pillow.  It  is  a  great  convenience,  in  such  times 
as  these  we  live  in,  to  have  a  friend  like  this  always  in 
reach." 

"  You  were  born  for  a  partisan  leader,  sir.  I  wonder  you 
never  took  to  the  trade." 

"Well,  I  suppose  it  was  partly  because  there  was  no  such 
organization  on  my  side  of  politics ;  partly  because  I  had 
no  wish  to  shed  blood  in  this  contest  if  I  could  help  it,  for 
I  could  never  be  certain  how  much  of  that  same  blood  flowed 
in  my  mother's  veins.  As  long  as  it  was  a  free  thing  to 
fight  or  let  it  alone,  as  we  pleased,  I  let  it  alone.  But  I  am 
tired  of  dodging  and  hiding  from  conscript  officers.  If  I 
must  fight,  I  shall  fight  on  my  own  side,  and  the  chances 
are  that  I  shall  he  a  partisan  leader  before  long.  Would 
you  like  a  commission  under  me  as  lieutenant?" 

"  Would  I  like  it  ?  AVill  a  duck  swim  ?  or  does  a  bear 
love  honey  ?  Give  me  the  commission  and  you  shan't  want 
men." 

"Get  well  then  as  soon  as  you  can,  and  you  shall  have 
it.  I  hear  Toby  coming  in  from  the  field,  and  I  must  go 
now  to  help  him  feed  the  stock,  and  so  on.  The  doctor  too 
will  be  here  directly.  We  will  be  alone  to-morrow,  and  can 
havca  long  talk." 

After  a  long  and  careful  examination  of  his  patient,  the 
doctor  expressed  himself  as  delighted  with  his  condition. 
He  said  that  after  the  expiration  of  four  days  his  symptoms 
were  as  favorable  as  those  of  many  men  would  have  been 
in  four  weeks.  Fever  gone,  tongue  clean,  appetite  good, 
pulse  steady;  nothing  more  was  needed  but  to  lie  still, 
keep  the  leg  easy,  and  let  the  bone  go  through  the  process 
of  knitting.  Youth,  health,  strength,  and  a  remarkably 
good  constitution  had  done  a  great  deal,  and  the  doctor 
modestly  intimated  that  he  might  have  done  something  him- 
self toward  bringing  about  the  happy  result ;  but  after  giv- 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  157 

ing  due  weight  to  all  these,  the  recuperative  powers  which 
had  manifested  themselves  were  wonderful.  It  was  one  of 
those  extraordinary  cases  which  medical  science  is  at  a  loss 
to  account  for.  The  doctor,  however,  did  not  devote  any 
long  period  of  time  to  indulgence  in  the  reflections  and 
speculations  to  which  the  promising  condition  of  his  pa- 
tient gave  rise.  Turning  abruptly  to  Tobias  Wilson,  he 
•inquired:  , 

"Xow,  Toby,  my  boy,  what  do  you  intend  to  give  me  for 
supper?  If  your  mother  was  here  the  question  would  be 
superfluous,  but  I  don't  know  anything  about  your  taste,  or 
what  attention  you  have  paid  to  the  provision  of  needful 
nourishment  for  the  human  body.  What's  your  bill  of  fare 
to- night  ?" 

"Well,  my  dear  sir,  I  happen  to  know  your  taste,  if  you 
do  not  know  mine,  and,  as  you  were  kind  enough  to  give 
me  notice  of  your  coming,  I  have  made  provision  accord- 
ingly. I  fear,  however,  that  there  will  be  no  variety  at 
breakfast;  you  must  make  out  then  with  very  nearly  the 
same  bill  I  oSer  you  to-night.  You  shall  have  biscuit,  hoe- 
cake,  corn-batter  cakes,  coS"ee,  milk,  ham  and  eggs,  dried 
venison,  and  chicken  either  broiled  or  fried,  as  you  please. 
And,  as  you  know  everybody  in  these  mountains  is  a  cook, 
and  I  claim  to  be  tolerably  well  skilled  in  that  department 
of  housekeeping,  I  hope  to  give  vou  a  meal  of  which  you 
will  have  no  cause  to  complain  to  my  mother,  when  next 
you  meet  her." 

"Your  bill  of  fare  is  excellent,  my  boy;  but  I  dissent  tofo 
ccelo  from  the  proposition  that  everybody  in  these  mountains 
is  a  cook :  they  think  so,  but  it's  not  the  fact.  They  have 
a  barbarous  and  unhealthy  way  of  cooking  their  bread  over 
a  blazing  fire,  and  sending  it  to  the  table  with  the  outside 
scorched  brown  and  the  inside  little  more  than  half  done. 
They  throw  on  the  meats  in  the  same  way ;  keep  them  there 

14* 


158  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

until  all  the  juices  are  burned  out,  and  call  that  cooking. 
Now,  I  have  a  weakness  for  good  biscuit  and  fried  chicken, 
and,  if  you  have  no  objection,  I  will  take  that  much  of  your 
culinary  labors  off  your  hands." 

Wilson  smiled ;  not  at  all  surprised  at  the  good  doctor's 
speech,  for  this  was  notoriously  his  pet  hobby.  He  had 
often  heard  it  laughingly  asserted,  that  the  doctor  fre- 
quently remained  at  the  house  of  a  patient  to  dinner,  or- 
other  meal,  as  much  for  the  purpose  of  lecturing  the  good 
wife  upon  cookery,  as  from  any  actual  necessity  for  his  at- 
tendance on  the  sick.  As  he  was  an  excellent  physician, 
a  warm  friend,  a  kind-hearted,  generous,  and  benevolent 
man,  this  particular  idiosyncrasy  was  not  only  tolerated, 
but  had  grown  to  be  a  kind  of  pleasure  to  his  acquaintances 
and  friends.  It  was  therefore  with  a  pleased  and  good- 
humored  expression  of  countenance  that  Tobias  answered: 

"Certainly,  sir.  The  dough  is  already  made,  and  the 
chicken  cut  into  pieces.  Had  you  not  better  let  me  cook 
them,  under  your  direction,  of  course  ?" 

"Perhaps  it  would  be  better.  My  profession  requires 
good  eyes,  and  stooping  over  a  hot  fire  is  not  the  way  to 
preserve  them.  Bring  the  dough ;  the  biscuit  require  the 
longest  time  to  get  thoroughly  done,  and  should  be  the  first 
thing  put  on  the  fire." 

The  dough  was  brought;  the  doctor  examined  the  mass, 
and  directed  it  to  be  more  thoroughly  beaten. 

"You  can't  make  good  biscuit  without  giving  them  a 
good  beating.  Remember  that,  Toby;  it  will  be  worth 
something  to  your  wife,  when  you  get  one,  which  won't  be 
long,  I  suppose,  from  what  I  witnessed  the  other  day." 

Tobias  Wilson  blushed  deeply,  and  commenced  beating 
the  mass  of  dough  with  an  energy  which  satisfied  the  doc- 
tor himself.  His  love  was,  in  his  eyes,  a  sacred  thing,  and 
he  was  not  pleased  by  any  seemingly  careless  allusion  to  it, 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  159 

even  when  coming  from  so  old  and  so  good  a  friend  as  Dr. 
Griffin.  Besides,  Sergeant  Miller  was  in  the  room,  and 
though  the  allusion  was  too  vague  to  afford  him  any  clew  to 
the  real  facts,  Tobias  had  a  nervous  dread  of  the  chance 
exposure  of  what  was  to  him  the  ''holj  of  holies,"  to  the 
cold  gaze,  or,  it  might  be,  impertinent  criticism  of  a 
stranger.  He  would,  if  he  could,  have  confined  all  knowl- 
edge of  it  to  his  own  bosom  and  to  hers,  until  the  very 
moment  when  they  stood  together  before  the  altar,  and  the 
minister  of  God  was  there,  to  clasp  the  nuptial  band  and 
pronounce  the  nuptial  benediction.  He  was  a  very  miser 
in  his  love;  and,  like  the  miser,  could  gaze  with  passion- 
ate fondness  upon  his  treasure  in  secret,  and  shudder  to 
think  that  another  eye  could  see,  another  hand  could 
touch  it. 

The  doctor,  absorbed  in  the  business  before  him,  neither 
saw  nor  suspected  the  feelings  he  had  unconsciously 
awakened  in  the  bosom  of  his  young  friend.  Thomas 
Rogers  suspected  that  he  was  beating  the  dough  to  rags 
in  pure  mischief,  and  indulged  a  hearty  laugh,  when  the 
doctor  exclaimed : 

"  There,  Toby !  there,  you  foolish  boy !  if  you  strike  another 
lick  I'll  turn  you  off  as  my  assistant.  Now,"  he  continued, 
as  Tobias  ceased  to  pommel  the  harmless  dough,  "make 
it  up  into  biscuits,  and  put  them  in  the  oven ;  then  bring 
me  the  frying-pan." 

The  frying-pan  and  the  plate  of  chicken  were  handed  to 
him;  a  dish  of  dry  flour,  a  plate  of  butter,  a  bowl  of  sweet 
cream,  and  some  hog's  lard  were  also  placed  on  a  bench 
where  he  could  reach  them. 

"Take  away  the  lard,"  he  almost  shrieked.  "Apiece 
as  big  as  a  pea  would  ruin  the  flavor  of  this  delicate  bird. 
Bring  me  some  water  instead,  and  you  may  go  on  with  the 
preparation  of  the   other  things.     I  will    attend  to   the 


160  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

chicken  myself.  You  see,  Thomas,  frying  a  young  chicken 
exactly  as  it  should  be  done,  is  one  of  the  most  difficult 
things  in  the  whole  system  of  cookery." 

"Why,"  replied  Rogers,  "I  always  thought  it  was  one 
of  the  simplest  and  easiest." 

"That  is  a  proof,  young  man,  of  lamentable  ignorance 
on  your  part  of  the  most  useful  because  the  most  healthful 
of  the  arts.  Xow  observe  me,  and  after  the  bird  is  cooked 
I  shall  expect  you  to  give  me  your  honest  opinion.  In  the 
first  place,  you  see  I  fill  this  frying-pan  half  full  of  water. 
Be  pleased  to  hold  it  on  the  fire  until  it  boils  well. 
The  next  thing  is  to  see  that  it  is  salted  exactly  right. 
Most  people  think  that  makes  no  difference,  as  you  can 
salt  it  when  it  comes  on  the  table.  That's  a  great  mistake, 
Tommy;  it  must  be  cooked  with  the  right  quantity  in  it." 

After  satisfying  himself  upon  this  important  point,  he 
continued  : 

"When  the  water  boils  well  in  the  frying-pan,  you  put 
in  a  lump  of  butter  not  quite  as  large  as  a  hen  egg, — let 
that  melt  thoroughly;  then  cover  each  piece  of  chicken 
thickly  with  dry  flour,  and  put  it  into  the  pan.  Put  the 
pan  back  on  the  fire,  and  let  it  remain  until  the  chicken  is 
half  done.  Take  it  off,  turn  the  pieces  of  chicken  over, 
pour  in  a  cupful  of  cream  and  let  it  stay  until  it  is  done, 
and  you  have  a  dish  as  delicious  as  any  that  was  ever 
served  up  on  the  table  of  the  Queen  of  England."* 

To  judge  from  the  repeated  assaults  upon  the  viands  be- 
fore them,  the  supper  was  altogether  to  the  taste  of  the 

^  The  author  once  heard  this  dissertation  upon  the  proper  method 
of  frying  a  young  chicken,  almost  verbatim  as  it  is  here  given.  The 
place,  too,  was  very  near  the  spot  v^^here  the  principal  scenes  of 
this  story  are  laid.  He  confesses,  however,  that  he  has  never  taken 
interest  enough  in  the  science  of  good  eating,  to  make  an  actual 
experiment  of  its  virtues. 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  161 

parties  whom  it  concerned;  not  excepting  the  wounded 
sergeant,  than  whom  none  seemed  to  enjoy  his  share  with 
a  keener  relish. 

Some  time  after  the  conclusion  of  the  meal,  Thomas 
Rogers  announced  his  purpose  to  sleep  in  the  room  with 
Miller.  He  also  said  that  he  wished  to  send  a  note  to  his 
father,  and,  as  Tobias  and  Dr.  Griffin  would  probably 
make  an  early  start  in  the  morning,  he  would  write  it  that 
night. 

The  next  morning  when  Tobias  Wilson  was  about  to  set 
out  to  hear  the  final  decision  of  those  to  whom  the  question 
of  his  immediate  marriage  had  been  referred,  a  letter  was 
placed  in  his  hand  by  his  friend,  directed  to  Thomas  Ro- 
gers, Sr.,  with  an  injunction  to  place  it  in  his  hands  imme- 
diately on  arriving  at  his  house. 

"Tell  him,"  added  Rogers,  "that  I  wish  him  to  read  this 
before  giving  you  your  answer.  I  do  not  know  why,  but  I 
have  a  presentiment  that  they  will  try  to  put  you  off. 
Don't  listen  to  anything  until  he  has  read  this  letter ;  and 
if  he  still  wishes  to  delay  your  marriage,  don't  let  him  do 
it.  Stand  up  stoutly,  and  if  you  will  whisper  a  word  to 
Sophy,  she'll  help  you.     He  can't  refuse  her  anything." 

Wilson  did  not  feel  quite  confident  of  getting  any  help 
from  Sophy ;  but  he  rode  away  fully  resolved  to  follow  his 
friend's  advice,  and,  in  case  of  need,  to  make  an  earnest 
appeal  to  his  elected  bride.  He  was  certain  of  a  powerful 
ally  in  her  own  heart,  and  did  not  allow  himself  to  be  much 
alarmed  by  anticipations  of  the  probable  triumph  of  mere 
notions  of  expediency,  over  the  pleadings  of  his  love,  aided 
by  the  suggestions  of  her  own.  He  lost  no  time  in  deliver- 
ing his  letter  to  Mr.  Rogers,  and  then  quietly  slipped 
away  to  whisper  something  to  Sophy  which  made  her  cheek 
burn,  but  which,  from  the  satisfied  expression  on  his  own 
countenance,  had  clearly  elicited  no  unfavorable  response. 


162  TOBIAS     TVILSON. 

Mr,  Rogers  read  the  letter,  and  walking  apart  with  Mrs. 
Wilson,  handed  it  to  her.     It  ran  as  follows  : 

My  dear  Father: — 

Tobias  tells  me  that  it  has  been  left  to  his  mother  and 
yonrself  to  j5x  the  period  of  his  marriage  with  mj  sister. 
After  the  public  avowal  of  their  love,  at  the  funeral  of  Mr. 
Johnson,  it  seems  to  me  that  propriety  requires  that  there 
should  be  no  delay.  But  that  is  a  matter  of  which  you  are 
a  better  judge  than  I  am.  What  I  wish  to  say  is,  that  I 
have  it  much  at  heart  that  the  wedding  should  take  place 
as  early  as  possible.  I  have  sure  information  that  the 
Union  troops  will  be  withdrawn  from  this  county  in  a  few 
weeks.  I  shall  probably  be  compelled  to  go  with  them, 
and  you  will  need  some  one  to  take  my  place  at  home. 
Give  Toby  that  right.  As  the  husband  of  your  daughter, 
his  proper  place,  in  seasons  of  trouble  and  peril,  will  be  by 
your  side.  Such  times  will  soon  be  upon  us,  and  it  will  be 
a  source  of  comfort  to  me,  in  my  absence,  to  know  that  a 
strong  hand,  a  quick  eye,  and  a  fearless  heart  will  be  here 
to  watch  with  you  over  Sophy  and  the  little  ones. 

Even  if  I  do  not  go  off  with  the  Union  soldiers,  I  can- 
not stay  at  your  house.  It  would  be  certain  to  bring  more 
or  less  trouble  upon  you  ;  and  if  Gen.  Rosecrans  should  be 
repulsed  at  Chattanooga,  the  fact  that  you  had  given  shel- 
ter to  an  avowed  traitor  to  the  South,  will  be  used  by  the 
authorities  as  an  excuse  for  oppressing  you,  and  will  justify 
in  the  eyes  of  each  petty  guerrilla  chief,  any  outrage  he  may 
choose  to  commit. 

I  learn  from  the  wounded  man  you  saw  at  Toby's  house, 
that  you  are  already  marked;  but  I  have  good  reasons  for 
believing  that  you  will  find  friends  where  you  least  expect 
them.  Still  they  might  happen  to  be  out  of  the  way,  and 
I  shall  feel  easier  from  knowing  that  Toby  is  with  you.    Let 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  163 

the  wedding  take  place  in  a  week  at  farthest.  I  will 
come  over  then  and  let  you  know  where  and  how  you  can 
communicate  with  me  in  future. 

When  Mrs.  Wilson  had  read  this  letter,  Mr.  Rogers 
asked  gravely: 

"What  say  you,  madam?  Shall  we  change  our  de- 
cision?" 

"He  is  deeply  in  earnest,"  answered  Mrs.  Wilson,  "and 
I  think  I  can  discover  that  he  has  more  reasons  for  his  re- 
quest than  he  has  chosen  to  give.  The  delay  of  a  month, 
which  we  had  proposed,  was  merely  to  enable  your  daugh- 
ter to  make  suitable  preparations.  There  was  no  real  ne- 
cessity for  it.  Perhaps  the  best  way  will  be  to  read  her 
brother's  letter  to  her,  and  tell  her  that  although  we  had 
decided  to  postpone  the  marriage,  we  are  not  now  inclined 
to  interfere.     That  she  must  fix  the  day  herself." 

This  proposition  having  been  assented  to,  they  handed 
the  letter  to  the  lovers,  and  briefly  stated  the  conclusion  to 
which  they  had  come.  Sophy  Rogers  read  it  twice,  and 
then  asked : 

"Do  you  know  what  is  in  this  letter,  Toby  ?" 

"No.  He  did  not  seal  it;  but  he  did  not  tell  me  to  read 
it.     Perhaps  he  never  thought  of  it." 

She  handed  it  to  him  in  silence ;  walked  to  the  window, 
and  leaned  her  head  against  it  in  deep  thought.  She  was 
recalled  by  her  father's  voice,  inquiring  : 

"Well,  my  daughter,  what  do  you  say?" 

She  did  not  answer,  but  turning  at  once  and  approach- 
ing her  lover,  she  placed  her  lovely  hand  in  his,  and  whis- 
pered : 

"It  is  yours  now,  Toby;  but  tell  them  yourself  when 
you  wish  to  claim  it  at  the  marriage  altar." 

Standing  in  that  presence,  he  could  indulge  no  outward 


164  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

manifestation  of  the  rapture  which  glowed  within ;  but 
there  was  in  every  feature  a  visible  manifestation  that  the 
words  which  fell  softly  upon  his  ear,  and  sunk  into  his 
heart,  were  more  precious  and  more  durable  than  if  written 
with  a  diamond  pen  upon  tablets  of  gold. 

"Shall  I  say  Sunday  next?"  he  inquired  in  a  voice  as 
low  as  her  own. 

"Any  day,"  she  answered,  burying  her  face  in  his 
bosom. 

And  so  it  was  settled  that  on  the  following  Sunday 
Tobias  Wilson  should  become  the  happy  husband  of  the 
loveliest  woman  whose  footsteps  had  ever  pressed  the  soil 
of  Alabama,  or,  as  he  believed,  the  surface  of  the  earth. 

Greetings  and  congratulations  were  exchanged  among 
members  of  that  little  circle,  and  then  the  letter  of  Thomas 
Rogers  was  again  referred  to.  "  There  is  something  be- 
hind." "He  means  more  than  he  say^."  "What  can  it 
be?"  were  exclamations  of  all  present  hut  one.  That 
one  understood  it  full  well,  and  even  amid  the  happiness 
which  settled  like  a  glory  around  his  soul,  there  was  a  sad 
presentiment  of  approaching  evil.  He  shuddered  as  he 
reflected  that  however  he  had  since  endeavored  to  dissuade 
his  bold,  manly,  and  true-hearted  friend,  from  the  under- 
taking in  which  he  had  already  made  one  bloody  step, — he 
knew  nothing  of  the  death  of  Biles, — it  was  nevertheless 
his  suggestion  that  had  first  pointed  it  out  to  that  strong 
mind  and  stubborn  will.  It  had  gone  so  far,  that  reveal- 
ment  would  only  bring  added  grief  to  those  he  loved,  and 
he  was  forced  to  content  himself  with  the  firm  resolution  to 
share  all  the  consequences  that  might  follow 

When  about  taking  his  leave  that  evening,  Wilson  was 
informed  by  his  mother  that  his  presence  would  be  dis- 
pensed with  until  Sunday.  They  had  a  great  deal  to  do, 
she  said,  in  the  three  days  which  intervened,  and  did  not 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  165 

wish  to  be  disturbed  iu  their  occupations.  He  pleaded  for 
one  visit,  just  one,  but  in  vain.  She  was  inexorable.  Ar- 
riving at  home,  he  grasped  the  hand  of  his  friend,  and  ex- 
claimed : 

"Give  me  joy,  my  dear  fellow.  Your  letter  acted  like  a 
charm.  They  were  about  to  put  me  oif  a  month,  as  if  times 
were  likely  to  be  more  peaceful  then  than  now.  But  when 
they  read  your  letter,  it  was  agreed  that  the  wedding  might 
take  place  next  Sunday." 

''Next  Sunday!"  repeated.  Rogers,  musingly.  "Next 
Sunday,  and  this  is  Wednesday  night !  It  is  sooner  than  I 
expected.  I  thought  they  would  give  you  a  week  of  pur- 
gatory at  least.  You  are  a  happy  man,  Toby.  I  need 
not  offer  you  my  congratulations.  You  know  how  much  I 
wish  you  joy,  and  how  willingly  I  give  up  my  sister  to  one 
who  I  am  certain  would  rather  break  his  own  neck,  than 
the  least  of  the  promises  he  makes  to  her  before  the  mar- 
riage altar." 

Throughout  the  remainder  of  that  afternoon  and  evening 
Thomas  Rogers  was  thoughtful  and  reserved.  When 
alone,  his  old  habit  of  thinking  aloud  asserted  its  predom- 
inance. "They  have  not  yet  heard  of  Biles's  death  over 
the  mountain,  or  Toby  would  have  said  something  about 
it.  It  may  be  several  days  yet,  before  his  body  is  discov- 
ered. If  it  was  not  for  his  wife's  missing  him,  and  getting 
up  a  search,  he  might  never  be  found  in  that  lonely  place. 
When  he  is  found,  the  immediate  conclusion  will  be,  that 
he  was  killed  by  the  Union  soldiers,  by  whom  the  funeral 
was  broken  up,  and  no  investigation  will  follow.  It  is 
safe  to  say  that  matter  is  ended.  Parsoji  Williams's  turn 
comes  next.  The  worst  and  the  most  dangerous  of  the 
three.  But  how  am  I  to  get  at  him  ?  I  thought  I  would 
get  it  fixed  somehow  when  I  went  over  to  Toby's  wed- 
ding ;  but  Sunday  is  a  bad  day  to  catch  him  alone.    Never 

15 


166  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

mind,  'where  there  is  a  will,  there  is  a  way,'  and  I  don't 
think  another  week  will  go  over  his  head,  before  I  make  a 
hole  in  his  cursed  hide.  He  must  be  put  out  of  the  way 
before  I  leave  here,  or  I  may  come  back  to  find  my  father 
in  his  grave,  and  his  house  a  heap  of  ashes." 

The  next  day  and  the  next,  this  musing  mood  continued. 
He  went  early  to  work  in  the  field,  and  seemed  glad  of  any 
occupation  which  precluded  lengthened  conversations  with 
his  friend.  Saturday  there  was  a  change.  His  resolution 
had  been  taken,  and  the  sunshine  had  returned.  He  spoke 
with  high  good  humor  of  the  morrow's  transformation  of 
his  friend  into  the  staid  and  sober  head  of  a  family.  Al- 
together he  seemed  quite  as  well  pleased  as  Wilson  himself 
at  the  nearness  of  the  bridal  hour,  and  exhibited  through- 
out the  day  even  more  than  his  usual  exuberance  of  spirits. 

It  was  Saturday  night.  The  last  of  his  bachelor  days 
had  passed  away,  and  Tobias  Wilson  early  sought  his 
couch.  When  he  had  retired  to  his  room,  Thomas  Ro- 
gers moved  his  seat  nearer  to  the  bed  of  Miller,  and  asked: 

"Are  you  well  enough  to  get  along  one  night  without 
me?" 

"Oh!  yes;  if  you  have  anything  particular  to  keep  you 
away.  Put  some  victuals  and  a  bucket  of  water  on  the 
bench  here  by  me,  and  I  shall  do  well  enough." 

"I  don't  like  to  leave  you  alone,  but  I  must  stay  away 
from  you  to-morrow  night.  Perhaps  Dr.  Griffin  may  come. 
Send  him  a  message  by  Toby  that  you  are  very  anxious  to 
see  him." 

"Won't  you  see  him  and  can't  you  tell  him?" 

"  I  shall  see  him,  and  I  can  tell  him.  But  I  want  Toby 
to  carry  the  message  from  you.  I  shall  have  something  to 
say  to  him  myself,  after  Toby  has  told  him  you  want  him." 

"But,  sir,  Mr.  AVilson  knows  that  I  am  doing  as  well  as 
I  can  do,  and  if  he  tells  the  doctor  that,  he  will  not  come." 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  16T 

"That  might  be,  sure  enough!  Well,  then,  get  worse 
to-night;  have  the  nightmare;  wake  up  with  a  terrible 
pain  in  your  shoulder,  and  your  leg  feeling  as  if  it  would 
drop  off.  Toby  will  take  it  all  for  Gospel,  and  report  it  to 
Dr.  Griffin  just  as  you  tell  him.  A  child  could  cheat  him 
out  of  his  eyes  now.     Do  you  understand  me?" 

"  Certainly,  sir  I  I  see  it  all  plain.  I  told  you  that  you 
wur  born  for  a  partisan  leader,  and  the  more  I  sees  of 
you  the  more  I'm  satisfied  I  was  right." 

And  the  two  men,  whose  acquaintance  had  begun  by  a 
mutual  attempt  at  destruction,  but  who,  in  a  few  days,  had 
become  fast  friends,  closed  their  eyes  in  sleep,  side  by  side, 
with  their  several  parts  already  committed  for  the  play  of 
the  morning. 

The  bright  rays  of  the  sun  had  already  tinged  with  their 
golden  light  the  loftiest  of  the  mountain  peaks,  when  the 
two  friends,  Tobias  Wilson  and  Thomas  Kogers,  set  out 
for  the  home  which  one  of  them  did  not  expect  to  visit  for 
many  a  long  and  weary  day.  The  knowledge  of  what  he 
had  done,  and  of  what  he  meant  to  do,  was  confined  to  his 
own  bosom,  and  dark  as  were  his  thoughts  and  his  future 
purposes,  no  trace  of  doubt  or  gloom  could  be  noted  on 
his  brow. 

It  had  been  arranged  that  the  ceremony  should  take 

place  at  noon,  on  the day  of  August,  1863,  at  the 

house  of  Mr.  Rogers.  A  few  friends  of  the  family  only 
had  been  invited.  In  truth,  there  were  but  few  in  that  vi- 
cinity who  could  have  been  induced  to  show  themselves  at 
the  house  of  a  known  Union  man  and  supporter  of  the 
Government  against  the  unholy  rebellion  which  then  deso- 
lated the  land,  and  watered  it  with  the  tears  of  bereaved 
mothers  and  sorrowing  sisters.  The  soldier  who  came  only 
for  the  purpose  of  sustaining  the  majesty  of  the  law,  and 
maintaining  unimpaired  the  rich  heritage  bequeathed  by  our 


168  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

ancestors,  was  denounced  as  a  brutal  invader  ;  and  the  citi- 
zen who  asked  for  no  higher  privilege  than  that  of  remain- 
ing at  home,  and  withholding  himself  from  active  participa- 
tion in  the  unnatural  conflict,  in  which  nearly  every  drop  of 
blood  that  stained  the  ground  was  drawn  by  a  brother's  hand 
from  a  brother's  veins,  was  shunned  by  his  former  friends 
and  branded  as  a  coward,  or  a  traitor  to  the  land  of  his 
nativity.  The  foundations  of  the  social  system  had  been 
broken  up.  Father  and  son  met  upon  the  public  highway 
as  strangers.  No  prayer  ascended  to  heaven  from  a  sis- 
ter's lips  for  a  brother  whose  judgment  led  him  to  espouse 
a  cause  she  had  tutored  herself  to  hate.  Even  the  yearn- 
ings of  a  mother's  love  sickened  and  died  in  the  deadly 
malaria  of  rebellion,  and  the  poor  boy  who  could  not  un- 
derstand why  he  should  not  love  his  whole  country  instead 
of  contracting  his  affections  within  narrow  and  imaginary 
lines,  went  away  to  the  discharge  of  his  duty  without  her 
blessing,  and  felt  thankful  when  her  lips  refused  to  utter 
the  curse  the  demon  had  suggested  to  her  heart.  Love, 
friendship,  natural  affection,  kindness,  toleration,  and  char- 
ity, all  died  in  that  baleful  atmosphere,  and  he  who  refused 
to  become  a  traitor  had  only  the  alternative  of  becoming  an 
outcast, — shunned  like  the  leper  of  old,  or  hunted  down 
with  the  bitter  and  remorseless  venom  which  is  always  the 
characteristic  of  wrong  in  morals,  in  politics,  and  in  reli- 
gion. Mr.  Rogers,  and  every  member  of  his  family,  were 
firmly  and  'faithfully  attached  to  the  Union.  To  him  it 
made  no  difference  whether  a  man's  eyes  had  first  opened 
to  the  light  of  day  in  Massachusetts  or  in  South  Carolina. 
Neither  the  one  nor  the  other,  by  itself,  was  his  country, 
and  both  were  alike  parts  of  that  great  Republic  to  which 
alone  he  acknowledged  his  allegiance  was  due.  Entertain- 
ing such  opinions,  and  expressing  them  without  reserve,the 
circle  of  his  associates  in  that  latitude  was  soon  contracted 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  169 

within  very  narrow  limits.  Most  of  these  had  assembled 
on  the  present  occasion  to  witness  the  marriage  of  his 
daughter.  But  not  a  single  secessionist  could  be  brought  to 
honor  the  house  of  a  "  Southern  Tory,"  by  breaking  bread 
beneath  its  roof.  Mr.  Rogers  noted  the  fact  with  a  smile 
of  contempt.  His  son  noted  it  with  an  angry  frown  which 
not  long  afterward  brought  forth  bitter  fruit.  Oh !  how 
prone  are  we  to  forget  in  the  vanity  of  present  power  that 
the  persecuted  victim  may  in  time  be  transformed  into  a 
judge,  and  the  stern  sentence  of  our  own  guilt  be  pro- 
nounced by  lips  to  whose  humble  pleadings  we  have  scorned 
to  listen ! 

A  table  had  been  placed  in  the  middle  of  the  passage, 
upon  the  rich  covering  of  which  lay  a  single  volume  con- 
taining the  marriage  ceremony  according  to  the  forms  pre- 
scribed by  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church.  The  minis- 
ter was  preparing  to  take  his  place  by  this  unpretending 
altar  when  the  bugle  notes  of  a  cavalry  troop  rose  full  and 
clear  upon  the  air.  When  these  had  died  away,  the  steady 
tramp  of  horses  in  a  leisurely  walk  succeeded,  and  then  a 
small  body  of  cavalry,  commanded  by  a  captain  and  one 
lieutenant,  came  up  the  road  which  ran  along  in  front  of 
Mr.  Rogers's  house.  It  was  a  body  of  Union  troops,  re- 
turning from  a  scouting  expedition.  The  officers  were 
known  to  Thomas  Rogers,  and  he  went  out  to  greet  and 
invite  them  to  halt  and  witness  the  marriage  of  his  sister. 
The  invitation  was  cordially  given,  and  cheerfully  accepted. 
A  guard  was  placed  over  the  horses.  The  officers  entered 
the  house,  and  the  soldiers  gathered  about  the  entrance  to 
the  passage  where  they  would  have  a  full  view  of  the  par- 
ties to  a  ceremony  which  is  always  interesting,  and  doubly 
so  in  seasons  of  trial  and  of  dano:er. 

Sophy  Rogers  was  dressed  in  pure  white,  unadorned  save 
by  a  single  rose-bud  fastened  to  the  bosom  of  her  dress.    A 

1.5* 


170  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

long,  ricli  veil  was  thrown  over  her  head,  and  hung  loosely 
about  her  shoulders,  but  it  was  drawn  partially  away  from 
her  face,  so  as  to  hide  but  little  of  the  loveliness  which 
glowed  and  sparkled  there.  There  was  joy  in  her  counte- 
nance, subdued  indeed  by  the'consciousness  of  the  high  re- 
sponsibility she  was  about  to  assume,  but  still  a  joy  which 
she  did  not  attempt  to  conceal.  When  the  minister  had 
propounded  the  usual  questions  to  the  husband,  and  turned 
to  her  with  the  solemn  inquiries  which  it  was  requisite  for 
her  to  answer,  she  raised  her  eyes,  beaming  with  unutter- 
able love  and  trust  and  confidence,  to  the  face  of  her  lover, 
already  half  husband,  and  gave  the  affirmative  response  in 
a  voice  which  was  low  indeed,  but  clear,  distinct,  and  sweet 
as  the  choral  song  that  gladdened  the  union  of  our  first  pa- 
rents in  the  Garden  of  Eden.  Up  to  this  moment,  from  the 
time  she  emerged  from  her  own  room  to  the  passage  in 
which  the  ceremony  was  performed,  her  face  had  drooped 
toward  her  bosom  ;  and  though  partially  prepared  by  the 
extraordinary  symmetry  of   her   form,   and  the  grace    of 

every  movement,  Captain was  absolutely  startled  by 

the  vision  of  beauty  that  burst  upon  him.  When  the  cer- 
emony ended,  he  claimed  an  introduction  to  the  bride. 
Bowing  with  perfect  courtesy,  though  with  undisguised 
admiration,  he  addressed  her  in  words  to  which  his  voice 
and  manner  imparted  a  touch  of  sadness. 

"The  good  wishes  and  the  congratulations  of  a  stranger 
must  be  indifi'erentto  you,  and  I  am  sure  that  you  will  par- 
don me  for  reserving  mine  until  I  have  the  pleasure  of 
shaking  your  husband  by  the  hand." 

"You  are  mistaken,  sir!  The  good  wishes  of  a  soMier 
who  wears  the  uniform  of  my  country,  and  is  daily  exposing 
his  life  in  its  defense,  can  never  be  indifferent  to  me." 

"Indeed!"  he  replied,  slowly  and  musingly  ;  "is  it  indeed 
so?     Lady,  our  cause  is  blessed  !" 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  171 

Then  seeing  her  turn  toward  her  husband  as  if  to  intro- 
duce him,  he  added  frankly,  at  the  same  time  extending  his 
hand,  "I  do  not  need  an  introduction  to  Mr.  Wilson,  and 

I  trust  the  name  of  Captain ,  of  the Cavalry,  is 

not  altogether  unknown  to  him." 

Tobias  Wilson  grasped  the  extended  hand,  and  expressed 
his  high  gratification  at  making  the  personal  acquaintance 
of  an  ofiBcer  whose  uniform  kindness  and  gentlemanly  bear- 
ing had  wrung  reluctant  praises  even  from  secession  lips. 

On  such  occasions,  conversation  with  the  principal  per- 
sonages is  necessarily  limited,  and  though  the  present  com- 
pany held  aloof,  and  seemed  disposed  to  allow  the  soldier 
all  the  time  he  wished,  he  had  too  much  good  taste  to  avail 
himself  of  the  privilege  which  was  thus  tacitly  accorded  to 
him.  "Before  I  go,"  he  remarked,  "you  must  allow  me  to 
introduce  my  lieutenant;"  and,  beckoning  the  young  officer 
to  his  side,  presented  him  in  form.  Allowing  only  a  brief 
space  of  time  for  their  mutual  salutations,  he  said:  "We 

must  ride,  Mr. .     It  will  be  late  before  we  reach 

the  camp."  Turning  to  the  young  bride,  he  continued: 
"  We  have  now  only  to  beg  a  slice  of  the  wedding-cake, 
cut  with  your  own  fair  hands,  and  we  will  place  it  beneath 
our  heads  in  the  rude  tent  which  is  the  soldier's  only  home, 
in  the  fond  hope  that  there  is  some  foundation  for  an  old 
superstition,  and  that  our  dreams  may  recall  a  loveliness 
akin  to  that  which  has  enchanted  us  to-day." 

When  the  ofiBcers  took  their  departure,  Sophy  and  her 
brother  walked  with  them  to  the  entrance,  where  the  soldiers 
were  still  clustered  exchanging  remarks  and  making  occa- 
sional inquiries  of  the  male  guests  who  attended  the  bridal. 
She  had  suffered  the  veil  to  fall  entirely  from  her  head,  and 
stood  before  the  war-worn  veterans  in  all  the  radiant  beauty 
with  which  an  Eastern  fancy  clothed  the  houris  of  Mahomet. 
Instantly  lifting  their  caps  and  waving  them  in  the  air,  they 


172  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

greeted  her  with  cheers  as  loud  and  as  enthusiastic  as  ever 
rung  over  a  battle-field,  where  freedom  had  won  a  victory 
over  anarchy. 

"  That  is  right,  my  men,"  cried  the  captain,  raising  his 
own  cap  upon  the  point  of  his  sword  ;  "  and  if  a  time  should 
ever  come  when  she  needs  a  soldier's  help,  every  heart 
among  us  will  pour  out  its  last  drop  in  her  defense.  Xow, 
one  cheer  for  the  bridegroom  ;  one  more  and  a  rousing  one 
for  the  bride,  and  then  we  will  say  farewell." 

The  cheers  were  given  with  hearty  good-will,  and  the 
troop  rode  away,  with  the  lieutenant  at  their  head ;  the 
captain  remaining  for  some  time  in  earnest  conference  with 
Thomas  Rogers. 

The  dinner  which  followed,  though  rich  and  abundant, 
was  as  simple  and  unostentatious  as  the  wedding  that  pre- 
ceded it.  Yet  there  was  joy  in  the  hearts  of  all  those  who 
that  day  seated  themselves  around  Mr.  Rogers's  hospitable 
board.  Yea,  of  all ;  not  excepting  that  one  whose  thoughts 
might  have  been  presumed  to  partake  of  the  character  of 
the  fierce  and  bloody  deeds  in  which  he  had  lately  been  an 
actor,  and  of  those  that  were  yet  to  come.  His  vow  had 
been  fulfilled  in  part,  but  only  in  part.  There  was  still 
something  to  be  done.  The  time  had  not  come  for  reflec- 
tion to  sting  the  mind  with  doubt,  and  give  a  darker  name 
to  acts  that  now  wore  the  semblance  of  duty,  and  appeared 
to  spring  from  the  dictates  of  self-defense.  On  that  bright 
day  no  shadow  darkened  his  heart;  perhaps  he  was  the 
most  jubilant  of  the  party.  To  his  mind  there  was  no 
cause  for  gloom  or  apprehension.  He  loved  his  sister 
dearly,  and  was  warmly  attached  to  the  man  who  had  now 
the  right  to  call  her  wife  !  They  were  happy  in  each 
other's  love,  and  he  rejoiced  that  it  was  so.  Besides,  he 
believed  that  the  event  which  had  been  that  day  consum- 
mated, would  facilitate  the  execution  of  the  schemes  that 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  173 

had  found  a  lodgment  in  his  brain.  He  saw  no  reason, 
therefore,  why  he  should  not  enjoy  himself  to  the  full ;  and 
he  did  enjoy  himself,  although  fully  resolved  that  when  he 
left  that  festal  scene,  it  should  be  to  visit  one  where  Death 
was  "  master  of  the  revels  !" 

About  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  Dr.  Griffin  announced 
to  Mr.  Rogers,  with  evident  chagrin,  that  it  was  necessary, 
from  the  reports  of  Tobias  Wilson  and  Thomas  Rogers, 
that  he  should  pass  the  night  with  the  wounded  sergeant. 
A  half  hour  later,  Thomas  suddenly  recollected  that  it  would 
be  unkind  to  leave  the  doctor  alone  with  his  patient,  and 
he  too  rode  away.  Gradually  the  company  dispersed,  until 
only  a  few  young  persons  remained,  besides  the  usual  mem- 
bers of  the  family.  How  the  remainder  of  that  afternoon 
and  evening  and  night  wore  away,  the  reader  must  im- 
agine. Upon  those  first  hours  of  sacred  wedded  love  we 
dare  not  intrude.  Those  who  have  passed  through  them 
will  understand  the  burning  intensity  of  that  enjoyment 
which  condenses  into  moments  the  raptures  of  a  lifetime ; 
and  those  who  have  not,  must  live  on  in  ignorance,  until 
experience  reveals  what  language  is  powerless  to  portray. 

It  was  near  the  hour  of  noon  on  the  next  day  when  Dr. 
Griffin  returned.  He  seemed  perplexed  and  uneasy,  and 
even  forgot  to  give  Mrs.  Wilson  instructions  as  to  the 
proper  mode  of  preparing  the  viands  he  had  come  to  share. 
He  was  crusty  and  uncommunicative,  and  finally  picked  up 
a  book,  and,  stretching  himself  on  a  wooden  bench  in  the 
passage,  was  soon  seemingly  absorbed  in  its  contents.  Not 
long  afterward  a  neighbor,  who  had  been  absent  for  some 
days,  came  to  pay  his  respects  and  offer  his  congratulations 
to  the  newly-married  pair.  Several  others  had  called  during 
the  morning,  and  as  all  who  did  so  had  been  invited  to  re- 
main and  partake  of  the  family  dinner,  and  as  most  of  them 
had  accepted  the  invitation,  these,  added  to  the  young  peo- 


174  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

pie  of  both  sexes  who  were  present  at  the  wedding,  and 
had  not  returned  home  with  their  parents  on  the  previous 
day,  made  up  a  very  respectable  auditory  for  a  newsmon- 
ger, of  which  fraternity  Mr.  Jones — the  new-comer — was 
a  zealous  member.  Some  of  the  company  were  seated  on 
the  steps  of  the  passage  entrance ;  some  were  lolling  on 
the  benches ;  while  others  had  paired  off  to  indulge  those 
little  flirtations  of  which  weddings  are  so  apt  to  be  sug- 
gestive. Seating  himself  in  a  chair,  Mr.  Jones  addressed 
Mrs.  Wilson,  Sr.,  in  a  voice  loud  enough  to  be  heard  by  the 
whole  party  : 

"  Have  you  heard  the  dreadful  news  this  morning, 
madam  ?" 

"What  news?"  "What  is  dreadful?"  "Do  tell  us 
quick  !"  were  some  of  the  questions  and  exclamations  which 
sounded  in  the  gratified  ears  of  Mr.  Jones.  Mrs.  Wilson 
calmly  answered : 

"It  cannot  be  anything  very  dreadful,  or  some  of  us 
must  have  heard  it.  Some  of  our  friends  would  have  called 
to  tell  us." 

"Oh!  yes,  it  is,  dear  madam,"  exclaimed  a  bright-eyed, 
laughing  girl,  who  had  not  yet  seen  seventeen  summers. 
"It's  horrid  !  I  heard  it  yesterday." 

"You  heard  it !"  exclaimed  Jones  nervously,  fearful  that 
some  one  had  been  before  him  in  communicating  a  terrible 
story.  "But  you  couldn't  have  heard  it  all,  for  some  of  it 
didn't  happen  until  this  morning.  What  did  you  hear, 
Miss  Ella  ?" 

The  young  girl,  who  had  not  one  particle  of  faith  in  Mr. 
Jones's  story,  and  who  had  seized  on  this  occasion  as  a 
good  opportunity  to  pay  a  little  debt  of  spite  she  owed  him, 
answered : 

"I  do  not  know  whether  my  news  is  the  same  as  yours, 
Mr.  Jones ;  but  mine  is  so  horrid  that  I'm  sure  you  will  never 
be  able  to  match  it.     Can  he,  Mrs.  Wilson  ?" 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  175 

"  Really,  Ella,  you  cannot  expect  me  to  answer  that  ques- 
tion until  I  know  what  your  news  is." 

"  Well,  then,  I  heard  yesterday  that  Mr.  Jones  had  told 
his  friend,  Mrs.  Austin,  as  a  great  secret,  who  told  it  again, 
as  a  secret,  to  every  one  within  ten  miles  of  her  house,  that 
I  had  promised  to  marry  his  nephew,  Joe  Sykes — a  long- 
legged,  bandy-shanked,  blear-eyed,  spider-bodied  toad  as 
he  is  !  Now  is  that  not  more  dreadful  than  any  news  he  can 
tell?" 

Mrs.  Rogers  smiled  gravely  at  this  sally,  and  the  young 
people  laughed  heartily  at  a  description  they  all  knew  was 
not  greatly  over-drawn.  All  of  which  only  served  to  increase 
and  intensify  Mr.  Jones's  anger. 

"You  are  likely  to  do  a  great  deal  worse,  Miss  Ella 
Whitlock,  than  get  my  nephew  for  a  husband.  He  has 
already  got  a  captain's  commission  in  the  Confederate 
army,  and  is  able  to  protect  those  he  loves,  and  punish 
such  as  take  advantage  of  his  absence  to  turn  him  into 
ridicule  !" 

The  young  girl,  notwithstanding  the  bitterness  of  her 
words,  had  heretofore  spoken  without  an  apparent  trace  of 
anger.  At  this  unmanly  threat,  her  eyes  flashed  fire,  and 
her  dimpled  cheek  grew  scarlet. 

"  Punish  a  helpless  girl !  That  would  be  just  like  him  I 
The  uncle  is  only  a  slanderer;  but  the  blood  grows  warmer 
in  its  descent,  and  the  nephew  rises  to  the  dignity  of  mak- 
ing war  upon  women  !  I  do  not  doubt  that  he  has  courage 
enough  for  that,  although  he  did,  in  company  with  his  pop- 
injay general,  Joe  Wheeler,  drown  his  horse  in  jumping 
from  the  Shelbyville  bridge,  and  lose  his  hat  and  his  sword 
in  the  water,  in  his  terrified  flight  from  the  Union  cavalry. 
I  wonder  if  that  is  any  part  of  the  crown  of  glory  he 
told  me  he  was  going  to  win,  and  bring  back  to  lay  at  my 
feet  I" 


176  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

"  Stop,  Ella,"  said  Mrs.  Wilson,  who  thought  it  time  this 
scene  should  end.     "Such  language  is  unbecoming." 

"I  couldn't  help  it,"  cried  the  maiden,  bursting  into 
tears.  "I  did  not  mean  to  say  all  I  have  said.  But  it's 
true,  and  I  will  say  it  to  Joe  Sykes  if  he  wishes  to  hear 
it." 

If  Thomas  Rogers  had  been  there,  Mr.  Jones's  bones 
would  have  been  in  considerable  peril,  and  Captain  Joseph 
Sykes  would  have  had  an  item  charged  in  his  account  which 
might  prove  troublesome  when  the  day  of  settlement  came ; 
for  Rogers  loved  that  bright-eyed  and  impetuous  girl  more 
than  he  cared  as  yet  to  confess  to  his  own  heart,  and  it  was 
altogether  possible  that  he  might  conclude  that  every  tear 
drawn  from  her  eyes  called  for  as  many  crimson  drops  from 
the  veins  of  the  offender.  There  were  those  present  also 
whose  tempers  had  been  sorely  tried  ;  but  Mr.  Jones  was  an 
old  man,  and  they  reflected  that  he  was  a  guest,  albeit  not 
a  very  welcome  one,  in  the  house  of  a  friend.  Ella  Whit- 
lock  walked  into  an  adjoining  room  when  she  had  done 
speaking,  and  Mrs.  Wilson,  anxious  to  remove  any  feeling 
of  unpleasantness  at  such  a  time,  urged  Mr.  Jones  to  go  on 
with  his  news.  He  needed  no  further  encouragement,  and 
his  hearers  were  treated  to  a  dark  story,  for  which  they  were 
little  prepared. 

He  told  how,  in  passing  the  house  of  Parson  Williams 
that  morning,  he  observed  a  number  of  persons  so  great  as 
to  excite  his  curiosity;  that  he  stopped  to  inquire  what  it 
meant,  when  he  was  told  that  on  Saturday  a  party  who 
were  in  search  of  Jim  Biles,  found  his  dead  body  at  the 
foot  of  a  precipice;  that  it  was  so  dreadfully  mangled  by 
falling  from  the  precipice  and  by  the  teeth  of  some  wild 
animal,  thevdid  not  at  first  discover  that  he  had  been  shot 
— the  ball  entering  his  back  and  coming  out  in  front,  after 
passing  through  the  lower  bowels;  that  the  conscript  sur- 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  177 

geon  who  examined  the  wound  declared  it  had  been  in- 
flicted by  the  same  kind  of  gun  as  that  which  killed  Joshua 
Wilkins  ;  that  Parson  Williams  had  been  so  much  affected 
by  the  death  of  his  friend  that  he  was  unable  to  go  through 
with  the  usual  services  of  the  church  on  Sunday  ;  that  after 
a  restless  night  he  went  out  this  morning,  according  to  his 
custom,  to  feed  his  hogs ;  that  the  hog  pen  was  not  more 
than  three  hundred  yards  from  the  house  ;  that  not  return- 
ing to  breakfast,  the  family  became  uneasy  and  instituted  a 
search.  They  found  him  lying  on  the  ground,  near  the  hog- 
pen, stone  dead ;  his  loaded  gun  resting  against  a  tree  not 
far  off;  and,  strange  to  say,  the  wound  through  which  his 
life-blood  had  ebbed,  was  of  the  same  character  as  those 
that  had  sent  his  friends  upon  the  dread  journey,  which  leads 
from  earth  to — where  we  know  not. 

All  of  the  company  had  listened  in  profound  silence  to 
this  fearful  narrative.  Sophy  turned  pale,  and  clung  trem- 
blingly to  the  arm  of  her  husband,  while  he  was  visibly 
agitated;  a  cloud  gathered  on  the  brow  of  Mr.  Rogers; 
Mrs.  Wilson  wept ;  and  Ella,  who  had  returned  to  the  pas- 
sage as  soon  as  the  traces  of  tears  were  removed  from  her 
cheeks,  wrung  her  hands,  and  bitterly  reproached  herself. 

"To  think,  "  she  murmured,  "just  to  think  that  I  should 
have  made  so  light  of  this  dreadful  business,  and  interrupted 
its  narrative  by  my  foolish  resentment  of  Joe  Sykes's  pre- 
tended engagement  to  me,  and  still  more  foolish  anger  when 
rebuked !  If  the  Lord  will  forgive  me,  I  will  not  again  be 
so  wicked.  Mr.  Jones,  I  beg  your  pardon  ;  come,  let  us  be 
friends." 

He  took  her  ottered  hand,  but  it  was  after  the  surly  man- 
ner of  a  half-appeased  bear. 

Mr.  Rogers  cut  short  the  scene,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
changed  the  conversation  by  announcing,  almost  sternly, 
that  dinner  was  waiting.     At  this  announcement,  they  re- 


178  TOBIAS     WIL  BON. 

paired  to  the  dining-room,  and  no  further  allusion  was 
made  to  the  sad  occurrences  that  had  been  related  by  Mr. 
Jones.  But  a  feeling  of  sadness  and  gloom  had  settled  on 
entertainers  and  guests  alike ;  and  soon  after  the  meal  was 
concluded,  there  was  a  general  breaking  up  of  the  party. 
There  were  no  light  adieus,  in  which  gayety  predominated 
over  the  acheless  regret  of  parting  for  a  short  time  from 
the  friends  whose  happiness  they  had  assembled  to  witness, 
and  of  whose  hospitality  they  had  liberally  partaken.  The 
collision  of  a  wedding  and  a  funeral  is  always  painful ;  but 
there  was  a  deeper  shadow  than  this  upon  the  hearts  of 
the  party — ^just  now  so  gay — who  were  hurrying  to  their 
respective  homes.  There  was  an  unaccountable  sensation 
of  mingled  awe  and  apprehension.  They  had  been  taught 
the  forceful  lesson,  that  "in  the  midst  of  life  we  are  in 
death,"  in  a  manner  so  rude  that  the  nerves  gave  way,  and 
the  mind  was  unstrung  by  the  shock.  Their  interest  in 
the  young  and  loving  couple  was  tinged  with  sadness,  and 
they  went  on  their  way,  hoping  that  no  evil  might  come, 
yet  dreading  its  approach  to  themselves,  or  to  those  who 
had  dedicated  their  lives  to  each  other,  and  who,  in  the 
eyes  of  God,  were  henceforth  one  and  indivisible.  The 
laws  of  man  might  undertake  to  absolve  tHem  from  the 
promises  they  had  made  to  each  other,  but  a  higher  and  a 
holier  law  proclaimed  that  death  alone  had  power  to 
release  them.  For  weal  or  for  woe,  in  joy  or  in  sorrow, 
in  sickness  or  in  health,  they  were  joined  together,  and 
the  sentence  of  perjury  must  follow  in  the  footsteps  of  a 
broken  faith,  if  one  of  those  promises  should  be  violated 
either  with  or  without  the  sanction  of  human  law. 

When  the  last  of  the  guests  had  departed,  the  young 
wife  leaned  upon  her  husband's  arm ;  there  was  a  shade 
upon  her  brow,  and  her  eyes  of  heavenly  blue  were  robbed 
of  a  portion  of  their  lustei',  but  the  love  that  filled  her  soul, 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  179 

and  gave  life  to  the  pulses  of  her  heart,  bid  defiance  to 
trouble  and  anxiety. 

"This  is  a  sad  beginning  of  our  wedded  life,"  she  mur- 
mured, laying  her  hand  upon  her  breast,  "but  I  will  not  let 
the  dark  omen  hide  a  single  ray  of  the  happiness  which  is 
glowing  here." 

"  The  heart,  sweet  wife,  makes  its  own  omens.  All  others 
are  worse  than  worthless.  And  in  our  hearts  I  know  that 
all  is  gladness." 

He  folded  her  in  his  arms  as  he  spoke,  and  pressed  a  long, 
long  kiss  upon  her  lips.  When  at  last  that  clinging  sa- 
lute had  ended,  the  light  returned  to  her  eyes,  and  with 
firm  unwavering  faith  and  trustfulness,  she  repeated  the 
words : 

"God's  will  be  done.     I  trust  in  Htm  !" 


CHAPTER  IX. 

When  Thomas  Rogers  left  his  father's  house,  on  the 
afternoon  of  his  sister's  wedding,  it  was  with  the  avowed 
purpose  of  returning  to  that  of  Tobias  Wilson,  whither 
Dr.  Griffin  had  preceded  him. 

"  You  had  better  ride  fast,"  said  his  father,  when  they 
shook  hands  at  parting.  "You  are  late,  and  scrambling 
down  that  mountain  after  nightfall  is  not  the  safest  thing 
in  the  world  for  man  or  horse." 

"I  have  time  enough,"  he  replied,  patting  his  spirited 
horse  on  the  neck.  "Robin  has  a  knack  of  reducing  these 
mountain  miles  to  short  measure,  and  he  has  never  tripped 
since  you  gave  him  to  me." 

The  words  had  scarcely  passed  his  lips  when  he  gave 
his  steed  the  reins,  and  rode  off  at  a  gallop.  At  a  distance 
of  less  than  a  mile  he  dismounted,  laid  down  the  rails  of  a 
worm-fence,  and  led  his  horse  inside.  There  was  here 
a  thick  undergrowth  of  bushes,  and  a  few  yards  off  a  large 
poplar-tree  had  been  blown  down  by  some  previous  storm. 
From  the  hollow  of  this  tree  he  drew  forth  the  Spencer 
rifle,  revolver,  Bowie  knife,  and  other  accoutrements  he 
had  hidden  there  that  morning  on  his  way  to  the  wedding. 
To  Wilson,  who  was  present  when  they  were  hidden,  he 
had  merely  observed,  that  if  he  carried  these  formidable 
weapons  to  his  father's  house,  it  would  excite  remark 
among  the  guests,  and  it  was  therefore  better  to  leave 
them  where  he  could  get  them  on  his  return.  The  knife 
and  pistol  were  now  belted  around  his  person.     The  bul- 

17  (181) 


182  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

let  pouch,  in  which  there  was  a  supply  of  cartridges,  done 
up  in  papers  containing  seven  rounds  each,  (the  full  charge 
for  a  Spencer  rifle,)  was  thrown  over  his  shoulder,  and 
then,  remounting  his  horse,  he  turned  his  head  directly 
through  the  field  of  waving  corn. 

From  this  point  it  was  about  four  miles  to  the  house  of 
Parson  Williams.  In  order  to  reach  it,  it  was  necessary 
to  pass  through  a  gap  in  the  mountain,  some  three-quarters 
of  a  mile  in  extent,  on  one  side  of  which  a  perpendicular 
wall  of  rock  rose  up  to  the  height  of  three  or  four  hundred 
feet,  on  the  other  there  was  a  like  precipice,  of  even  greater 
height,  but  not  so  regular.  Here  and  there  a  jutting  crag 
overhung  the  road  which  ran  along  its  base.  There  were, 
too,  occasional  clefts,  large  enough  to  hide  a  man  and 
horse,  from  more  than  one  of  which  issued  limpid  springs 
that  emptied  themselves  into  the  stream  which  ran  through 
and  spread  itself  over  nearly  half  the  width  of  the  gap. 
There  was  no  other  outlet  to  the  valley  in  which  Parson 
Williams  lived,  without  making  a  circuit  of  twenty  miles 
or  more.  At  this  point  Thomas  Rogers  calculated  that 
there  was  danger  of  meeting  people  whom  he  had  no  mind 
to  take  into  his  confidence,  or  supply  with  grounds  of  sus- 
picion hereafter.  Before  reaching  it,  he  turned  aside  into 
one  of  the  numerous  hollows  of  the  mountain,  tied  his 
horse  securely  to  the  limb  of  a  tree,  and  stretched  himself 
upon  the  ground,  where  he  could  overlook  the  road,  with- 
out being  seen  himself,  prepared  to  wait  until  night  gave 
assurance  that  no  traveler  or  passer-by  would  be  stirring 
on  that  dark  and  lonely  road.  He  saw  several  persons 
riding  along  from  the  direction  of  Parson  Williams's  house, 
and,  recognizing  them  as  members  of  the  Baptist  church, 
he  concluded  they  had  been  in  attendance  at  one  of  the 
Parson's  "preachings."  Just  after  sundown  he  heard  a 
clear,  shrill  whistle,  piping  the  favorite  negro  melody. 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  183 

*' Possum  up  de  gura  stump, 
Raccoon  in  de  hollow," 

and  looking  over  the  rock,  which  served  him  as  a  screen, 
he  saw  a  stalwart  negro,  the  property  of  Parson  Williams, 
leisurely  making  his  way  homeward.  The  negro  was  well 
known  to  Rogers,  and  he  instantly  called  out : 

"Here,  Isham.     Come  this  way." 

"Who  dar  ?"  answered  the  negro,  looking  up,  and  then 
satisfied  by  the  first  glance,  hasty  as  it  was,  he  continued : 
"Ohl  Massa  Rogers.     Yes,  sa." 

When  he  reached  the  rock  which  had  served  Rogers  as 
a  hiding-place,  he  was  told  to  seat  himself  behind  it;  and 
the  following  colloquy  ensued: 

"How  is  your  master,  Isham  ?" 

"Poorly,  sa.  Mighty  poorly!  He  took  on  a  heap 
when  Cappin  Wilkins  was  killed,  and  said  one  of  the 
Lord's  wessels  wur  smashed  into  shivers;  and  he  got  a 
big  skeer  when  he  went  over  to  preach  the  funeral.  He 
said  that  onct  he  was  sartin  sure  he  wur  in  the  hands  of 
the  Philis^^zes,  but  the  Lord  delivered  him.  But  yistev- 
day,  when  he  heerd  how  Massa  Biles  was  found  dead,  with 
a  bullet  hole  spang  through  him,  he  was  av/ful  troubled ; 
and  this  mornin'  it  wur  gin  out  that  he  was  too  low  in 
sperit  to  preach  to-day." 

"Too  low  in  spirit  to  preach  to-day!  Why,  I  saw 
some  of  the  congregation  coming  away,  not  an  hour  ago." 

"  Yes,  sa.  I  met  'em.  But  thar  warnt  no  preachment. 
They  stayed  may  be  to  keep  him  company,  or  may  be  to 
git  a  little  of  his  old  peach  and  honey." 

"Like  enough,"  responded  Rogers,  musingly.  Then 
changing  his  tone,  and  looking  the  negro  steadily  in  the 
face,  he  said : 

"Isham,  if  all  the  reports  we  hear  in  our  neighborhood 
be  true,  you  have  no  cause  to  love  your  master  much." 


184  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

*'  What  you  hear,  sa  ?"  asked  the  negro  quickly,  wincing 
under  the  keen  gaze  that  was  bent  upon  him.  "You  hear 
Isham  gwine  to  run  off  wid  de  Yankees  ?" 

"No,  I  did  not  hear  that,  and  I  should  not  have  told  it 
if  I  had.  So  you  need  not  be  afraid  to  tell  me  anything. 
What  I  did  hear  was  that  Parson  Williams  treated  his 
servants  badly;  that  although  he  gave  them  good  clothes 
and  a  sufficiency  of  food,  he  whipped  them  unmercifully  for 
the  least  fault,  and  made  even  the  women  and  children  work 
before  day,  and  after  dark,  in  the  worst  weather.  I  there- 
fore concluded  that  you  do  not  love  him  much." 

"Massa  Rogers,  is  you  in  yearnest,  or  is  you  foolin'  dis 
nigger?" 

"  I  was  never  more  in  earnest  in  my  life,  Isham.  It 
would  do  me  no  good  to  fool  you,  or  to  betray  you,  and 
thus  cause  your  punishment.  You  are  not  more  than 
three  or  four  years  older  than  I  am,  and  we  have  been 
raised  here  together.  Did  you  ever  know  me  to  tell  any- 
thing on  anybody  that  would  hurt  them ;  especially  on  a 
negro  who  has  no  friends  to  take  up  for  him  ?" 

A  light  shone  upon  the  countenance  of  the  negro,  which 
betokened  not  merely  assent,  but  implicit  trust  and  con- 
fidence also. 

"No,  Massa  Rogers,  you  never  did;  and  you  was  al- 
ways good  to  us  black  folks,  and  never  cussed  us,  nor 
kicked  us,  nor  cuffed  us  about,  and  so  I'll  tell  you.  Massa 
treats  us  all  worser  than  you  knows  of." 

"Then  you  don't  love  him  much?" 

"  I  couldn't,  if  I  tried.     But  I  never  tried." 

"And  you  have  been  thinking  of  going  off  with  the 
Union  soldiers,  when  they  leave  this  neighborhood  ?" 

"  Yes,  sa  !  I'se  done  made  up  my  mind  !" 

"  Well,  they  will  take  you  if  you  ask  them  ;  but  I  do  not 
think  they  want  you  now,  unless  you  will  go  as  a  soldier. 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  185 

And  you  need  not  go  on  account  of  Parson  Williams's 
treatment.  If  you  answer  my  questions  truly,  I  do  not 
think  he  will  trouble  you  after  to-morrow." 

It  was  some  time  before  the  negro  comprehended  the 
exact  meaning  of  the  white  man ;  and  when  he  did,  he  ex- 
hibited much  more  of  dissent  and  alarm  than  Rogers  had 
anticipated.  Whatever  may  be  said  to  the  contrary,  the 
negro  is  very  far  from  being  cruel  or  blood-thirsty  by  na- 
ture. The  first  saturnalia  of  that  freedom  which  is  now 
dawning  upon  him  may  give  rise  to  the  exhibition  of  some 
such  traits — it  would  be  wonderful  if  it  did  not — but  they 
are  very  far  from  being  characteristic  of  the  race.  In  all 
the  trials  and  temptations  to  which  they  have  been  sub- 
jected, in  all  the  daily  and  hourly  opportunities  which  have 
been  presented  to  them  of  imbruing  their  hands  in  the 
blood  of  their  masters,  with  comparatively  little  risk  of  de- 
tection, they  have  gone  on  in  the  performance  of  their 
allotted  tasks,  from  generation  to  generation,  with  a  meek- 
ness and  docility,  a  degree  of  kindly  regard  for  their  owners, 
an  absolute  horror  of  violence,  and  a  patient  submission  to 
treatment,  which  was,  in  many  cases,  the  reverse  of  hu- 
mane, that  has  never  been  approached  by  any  other  tribe 
or  variety  of  the  human  species.  Revenge  and  destrnc- 
tiveness  are  foreign  to  the  head  and  the  heart  of  the  black 
man,  at  least  as  he  exhibits  himself  on  the  North  American 
continent.  There  is  not  a  planter  at  the  South,  v^^hose 
entire  crop  has  not  been  every  year  at  the  mercy  of  his 
slaves,  from  the  time  it  was  gathered  until  transported  to 
market.  There  is  not  a  dwelling  that  might  not  have 
been  wrapped  in  flames  almost  any  night  of  the  year,  nor  a 
single  town  or  city  which  could  have  been  regarded  as 
secure,  if  the  negro  had  willed  its  destruction ;  and  all  this 
might  have  been  accomplished  at  so  little  risk,  that  detec- 
tion would  not  have  followed  one  time  in  a  hundred.    But 

It* 


186  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

SO  far  from  evincing  a  disposition  to  engage  in  acts  of  such 
a  character,  the  owner  must  have  been  a  brutal  one  indeed 
who  did  not  find  his  slaves  the  most  faithful  sentinels  over 
his  property  and  his  life.  Many  and  many  a  time  I  have 
seen  them  weep  as  bitterly  at  the  funeral  of  a  master,  or 
some  member  of  his  family,  as  if  their  own  nearest  relative 
was  about  being  consigned  to  the  grave;  and  the  affection 
with  which  they  regarded  and  treated  the  white  children 
of  the  family  could  scarcely  be  distinguished  from  the  love 
they  bore  to  their  own  offspring. 

These  facts  were  neither  unknown  to  nor  underestimated 
by  Thomas  Rogers.     But  he  trusted  a  great  deal  to  the 
new  and  strange  aspirings  for  freedom  that  the  rebellion 
had  kindled  in  the  mind  of  the  slave.     He  trusted  some- 
what to  the  good-will  that  he  believed  the  negro  entertained 
for  himself,  personally,  and  something  more  to  the  want  of 
that  feeling  toward  his  mastic.      As"^  master,  Parson 
Williams  outwardly  met  all  the  requirements  of  the  be- 
nignant laws  of  Alabama.     He  clothed  them  well;  he  fed 
them  plenteously  ;  he  could  bid  defiance  to  grand  juries 
and  States  attorneys, — yet  there  were  many  things  the  law 
could  not  reach,  w^hich  were  well  calculated  to  turn  the 
milk  of  human  kindness  into  gall  and  bitterness.     Parson 
Vrilliams  was  a  hard  man — hard  to  the  members  of  his 
w^hite  family — much  harder  to  his  servants ;  and  Rogers 
had  repeatedly  heard  him  so  spoken  of:  he  therefore  judged 
that  there  might  be  some  spark  of  resentment  burning  in 
the  breast  of  the  negro  man  Isham,  which  would  prompt 
him  to  become  a  willing  accomplice,  at  any  rate  so  far  as 
communicating  the  information  he  desired  to  obtain,  and 
which,  indeed,  was  all  the  assistance  he  sought  or  would 
have  accepted  from  the  negro.  • 

The  first  reply  of  Isham  was  so  decided  a  negative  that 
Rogers  began  to  fear  he  had  made  a  serious  miscalcula- 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  187 

tion,  and  the  idea  crossed  bis  mind  that  the  negro  might 
betray  him.  This  suspicion  was,  however,  soon  dismissed, 
and  he  went  on  : 

"I  do  not  want  your  help,  Isham.  I  would  not  let  you 
help  me  if  you  wished.  There  shall  be  no  finger  in  that 
pie  but  my  own.  All  I  want  you  to  do  is  to  answer  my 
questions  truly." 

"But,  Massa  Rogers,  if  I  tells  you  how  to  kill  him, 
won't  dat  be  as  bad  as  if  I  helped  you  to  knock  him  in  de 
head  ?  Oh,  sa  !  let  him  alone  1  God  Amighty  will  tend 
to  him  by'm-by." 

''God  Almighty  works  by  human  means,  Isham;  and 
who  shall  say  that  I  am  not  his  agent  in  cutting  short  the 
career  of  that  dark  and  dangerous  man?  He  must  die  to- 
morrow, Isham.     You  will  not  betray  me  !" 

"  Neber,  sa,  neber  !  They  shall  whip  all  the  skin  off  my 
back  before  dey  gits  a  word  from  me.  But  you  see,  sa,  if 
I  helps  you,  I  can't  neber  go  coon  hunting,  or  possum 
hunting  no  more." 

"  Why,  Isham  ?  I  cannot  see  why  that  should  keep  you 
from  hunting  as  usual. 

"Kase,  I'd  see  his  ghost  in  ebery  hollow,  and  in  ebery 
bush  on  the  mountain." 

"  I  do  not  want  your  help,  I  tell  you.  I  do  not  want 
you  to  see  him  die,  or  to  know  anything  about  it,  except 
that  I  have  sworn  to  kill  him  ;  and  when  you  hear  that  he 
is  dead,  be  careful  not  to  say  or  do  anything  to  make  peo- 
ple suspect  me,  until  I  give  you  permission  to  tell  all  you 
know.  Now  tell  me  what  time  he  gets  up  in  the  morning. 
Does  he  go  to  the  field  himself,  or  what  does  he  do  before 
breakfast  ?" 

"  He  gits  up  ebery  mornin'  before  day.  Den  be  calls 
us  black  ones,  and  sends  us  out  to  work.  Den  be  goes 
back  to  de  house,  and  takes  bis  mornin'  dram,  and  as 


188  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

soon  as  day  comes  he  goes  out  to  de  hog-pen  and  feeds  de 
hogs." 

**  Where  is  the  hog-pen  ?" 

"  Jis  back  ob  de  hoss  lot,  on  de  creek." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  I  know.  I  have  passed  it  many  a  time.  It 
is  not  a  pen  at  all,  only  a  feeding-place  in  the  woods." 

"  Jis  so,  sa.  We  calls  it  a  pen,  kase  we  always  makes  a 
pen  dere  in  fattening  time." 

Rogers  asked  the  negro  a  great  many  other  questions, 
but  he  paid  no  further  attention  to  his  answers.  He  had 
obtained  all  the  information  he  wanted,  and  only  continued 
his  questioning  for  the  purpose  of  diverting  the  thoughts 
of  the  negro  from  the  one  important  point.  At  length  he 
rose  and  said : 

"It  is  getting  dark,  Isham,  and  as  I  reckon  your  master 
does  not  allow  you  to  be  out  at  night,  you  had  better  be 
going.  Remember,  you  must  never  tell  any  one  that  you 
have  seen  me  here  this  evening." 

The  negro,  after  promising  faithfully  to  keep  the  secret, 
wended  his  way  homeward.  As  soon  as  his  stalwart  form 
was  lost  in  the  gathering  shades  of  night,  Rogers  rose,  and 
at  once  proceeded  to  a  cornfield  some  two  or  three  hun- 
dred yards  off.  Returning  from  thence  with  his  arms  full  of 
the  growing  cornstalks,  blades,  etc.,  he  removed  the  saddle 
from  his  horse,  relieved  his  mouth  from  the  bit,  and  tying 
the  reins  about  his  neck  so  as  to  enable  him  to  feed  at  his 
ease,  he  walked  off  a  few  steps,  and  taking  a  seat  on  the 
ground,  proceeded  to  relieve  his  own  hunger  with  a  cold 
"snack"  that  he  had  provided  and  brought  in  his  pocket. 
The  meal  ended,  he  made  a  pillow  of  his  saddle,  and, 
stretching  his  limbs  upon  his  mother  earth,  was  soon  in  a 
profound  sleep.  An  hour  before  daybreak  he  was  picking 
his  way  through  the  deep  and  narrow  defile  heretofore  de- 
scribed, and  known  in  that  region  as  "Hell's  Passway." 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  189 

Parson  Benjamin  Williams  passed  his  last  night  upon 
earth  in  a  state  of  restless  uneasiness  and  of  nervous  irri- 
tability very  unusual  to  him.  Several  times  during  the 
night  he  thought  of  sending  for  a  physician,  but  was  de- 
terred by  the  consciousness  that  his  nervous  derangement 
arose  from  the  sudden  and  mysterious  death  of  the  two 
accomplices  who  had  recently  aided  him  in  the  commission 
of  a  dark  and  terrible  crime.  It  is  true  there  was  nothing 
to  connect  their  deaths  with  the  murder  that  had  pre- 
ceded them,  and  in  which  he  and  they  had  participated. 
There  was  no  one,  within  his  knowledge,  likely  to  feel  any 
interest  in  the  life  or  death  of  Robert  Johnson,  except  his 
daughter  and  his  grandson,  and  Parson  Williams  had  sat- 
isfied himself  that  the  grandson  could  not  have  been  the 
slayer  of  either  Wilkins  or  Biles. 

But  there  is  always  a  tendency  to  suspicion  in  the  mind 
of  the  perpetrator  of  a  great  crime.  He  is  sure  to  think 
that  any  unusual  occurrence  has  some  connection  with  the 
deed  that  is  ever  present  to  him,  and  in  this  way  guilt  not 
unfrequently  betrays  itself  to  punishment.  Often  the  very 
steps  it  takes  to  secure  immunity  leads  to  detection.  It 
can  never  rest  satisfied  with  what  has  been  done  for  the 
safety  of  the  culprit,  but  is  always  fancying  that  something 
more  is  requisite,  and  thus  insures  suspicion,  and  suspicion 
generally  leads  to  conviction.  Parson  Williams  had  not 
yet  fully  reached  this  troublesome  and  dangerous  frame  of 
mind,  perhaps  he  might  never  have  done  so,  because  in  any 
event  he  was  satisfied  that  no  Confederate  court  and  jury- 
would  doom  him  to  punishment.  He  was  disturbed  by  ap- 
prehensions for  which  he  could  not  account  satisfactorily  to 
himself.  It  was  not  the  fear  of  punishment,  or  the  con- 
demnation of  his  neighbors ;  still,  there  was  a  vague,  inde- 
finable something  in  his  bosom  that  he  interpreted  as  a 
premonition  that  the  avenger  of  blood  was  on  his  track. 


190  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

It  might  be,  it  probably  was  true,  so  he  reasoned,  that  Wil- 
kins  and  Biles  had  been  accidentally  met  by  Union  soldiers, 
and  killed,  either  in  resisting  or  in  flying  from  them.  But 
still  it  wore  to  him  the  appearance  of  a  judgment,  and  he 
could  not  divest  himself  of  a  presentiment  that  it  fore- 
shadowed his  own  doom.  He  was  thoroughly  versed  in 
the  Old  Testament  writings,  and  deeply  imbued  with  the 
gloomy  superstitions  and  stern  and  bloody  fanaticisms  to 
which  those  writings  are  so  well  calculated  to  give  birth, 
when  dissevered  from  the  gentler  teachings  of  the  New. 
And  under  their  influence  he  regarded  the  death  of  his  ac- 
complices as  a  warning  to  himself.  This  conviction  settling 
on  his  mind  shook  his  sturdy  frame  wiih  all  the  power  of 
physical  disease.  It  is  but  justice  to  him  to  say  that  this 
weakness  was  but  temporary.  Harsh,  unfeeling,  and  cruel 
to  others  as  he  undoubtedly  was,  he  was  always  ready  to 
bear  in  his  own  person  the  penalties  that  might  follow  his 
acts.  Before  morning  came,  he  had,  in  a  great  measure, 
shaken  off  the  nervous  depression  that  overcame  him.  The 
conviction  that  the  thread  of  his  life  was  running  short 
was  as  strong  as  ever,  but  he  braced  himself  to  meet  the 
end,  whatever  it  might  be,  and  sternly  drove  each  coward 
thought  from  his  bosom. 

At  the  usual  hour  he  called  his  slaves,  and  sent  them  to 
the  field.  As  soon  as  the  morning  light  enabled  him  to 
distinguish  objects  clearly,  he  took  his  gun  in  one  hand 
and  an  empty  basket  in  the  other,  and  went  out,  according 
to  his  custom,  to  feed  the  hogs.  Climbing  over  the  rail- 
fence,  he  deposited  his  gun  against  a  tree,  filled  his  basket 
from  a  crib  near  by,  which  had  been  built  for  the  purpose, 
and,  taking  it  on  his  shoulder,  walked  along,  scattering  the 
corn,  as  he  went,  among  the  grunting  and  squealing  swine. 
When  the  basket  was  emptied,  he  let  it  fall  from  his  shoul- 
der, still  grasping  it  in  his  hand,  and  looked  about  him 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  191 

with  satisfaction  upon  the  well-fed  and  thriving  porkers. 
There  was  no  danger  of  want  in  his  family  for  the  coming 
year,  and  he  noted  the  fact  with  the  self-satisfied  air  of  a 
man  who  feels  that  he  is  altogether  comfortable  in  his  cir- 
cumstances. Suddenly  an  armed  man  stepped  from  behind 
a  large  tree  within  twenty  feet  of  him,  and  a  stern  voice 
greeted  him  with  the  words  : 

"How  are  you  this  morning,  Parson  Williams?" 

The  individual  thus  addressed  started  as  if  an  adder  had 
stung  him.  A  deadly  pallor  spread  over  his  face,  and  the 
basket  dropped  from  his  nerveless  hand.  Kecovering  him- 
self by  a  great  effort,  and  observing  who  it  was  that  stood 
before  him,  he  answered  surlily : 

"Is  that  you,  Thomas  Rogers?  and  what  are  you  doing 
here  ?  I  guess  you  haven't  been  sleeping  with  my  negroes, 
and  as  there  is  no  place  else  you  could  have  slept  in  this 
neighborhood,  I  should  like  to  know  how  you  came  here 
at  this  hour  in  the  morning?" 

"I  hope  to  be  able  to  explain  it  to  your  satisfaction  be- 
fore we  part,  parson." 

"Hardly,  I  think,  Mr.  Thomas.  I  heard  that  you  were 
in  league  with  your  country's  enemies,  and  this  wandering 
about  all  night,  nobody  knows  where,  or  on  what  errand, 
looks  mighty  like  it." 

"Ah,  parson  !"  replied  Rogers,  with  a  bitter  sneer,  "I 
was  afraid  you  had  heard  something  of  the  sort  about  me, 
or  rather  about  my  father,  and  I  have  come  to  relieve  your 
mind  upon  the  subject.  Bat  first  tell  me  who  killed  Robert 
Johnson  in  cold  blood,  when  he  was  peacefully  at  work  in 
his  own  field,  without  dreaming  of  harm  to  a  human  being  ?" 

Parson  Williams  was  poorly  prepared  to  meet  this  search- 
ing query.  Resolute  as  he  was,  he  trembled  in  every  limb. 
He  tried  to  answer  firmly,  but  his  voice  would  not  be  con- 
trolled, and  his  pitiless  enemy  marked  its  tremulous  tones 


192^  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

with  a  degree  of  satisfaction  little  less  than  that  with  which 
the  savage  hails  the  shriek  of  his  victim  at  the  stake. 

"What  do  I  know  of  Robert  Johnson,  and  what  is  he  to 
you  that  you  should  come  here  at  this  hour  to  ask  me  about 
him  ?  What  fool's  notion  have  you  got  in  your  head 
now  ?" 

"A  spirit  whispered  to  me  in  my  sleep,"  responded  Ro- 
gers, "that  Captain  Wilkins,  James  Biles,  and  Parson 
Williams  killed  an  old  man,  who  was  very  dear  to  me, 
because  he  would  not  turn  traitor  to  his  country,  and  the 
same  spirit  warned  me  that  the  blood-hounds  were  on  my 
father's  track.  Josh  Wilkins  died — and  owned  nothing. 
Jim  Biles  died — and  confessed  all  before  he  went.  It  is 
your  turn  now  !"  Then  changing  his  tone  to  one  expres- 
sive of  scorn  and  hate  combined,  he  continued: 

"  Fool !  Did  you  suppose  such  a  deed  of  blood  could  be 
allowed  to  go  unavenged  ?  From  the  hour  that  Tobias 
Wilson  and  I  met  you  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  I  have 
been  upon  your  track.     Your  last  hour  has  come." 

Parson  Williams,  as  before  stated,  was  no  coward.  The 
immediate  presence  of  physical  danger  acted  as  a  restora- 
tive, and  he  sprang  for  his  gun  with  an  agility  no  one 
would  have  expected  him  to  exhibit.  But  at  no  period 
of  his  life  could  he  have  been  accounted  a  match,  under 
equal  circumstances,  for  the  quick  eye  and  steady  hand 
that  were  now  opposed  to  him.  He  was  still  several  steps 
distant  from  his  weapon  when  a  puff  of  light-blue  smoke 
was  belched  forth  from  the  muzzle  of  Rogers's  rifle,  a 
sharp  report  followed,  the  frightened  swine  scattered 
through  the  woods,  and  the  Baptist  minister  fell  forward 
on  his  face  a  lifeless  corpse. 

"He's  done  for,"  muttered  Rogers.  "No  human  being 
ever  lived  ten  minutes  who  fell  in  that  way." 

Then,  turning  back  into  the  woods,  he  went  off  at  a  rapid 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  193 

pace  to  the  spot  where  his  horse  was  fastened.  In  a  short 
time  afterward  he  was  dashing  through  "Hell's  Passway" 
at  a  rate  of  speed  that  no  one  probably  had  ever  attempted 
before.  Once  beyond  it  he  turned  abruptly  from  the  road, 
leaped  a  cornfield  fence,  made  his  way  through  it  to  the 
mountain  side,  and  never  slackened  the  reins  until  he  had 
gained  the  narrow  path  which  led  to  Tobias  Wilson's 
house. 

The  sun  was  not  yet  "an  hour  high'-*  when  he  rode 
down  the  mountain,  stabled  and  fed  his  horse,  and  entered 
the  room  where  Dr.  Griffin  was  preparing  his  own  breakfast. 

The  doctor's  first  greeting  was  by  no  means  a  cordial  one. 

"A  pretty  trick  you  have  played  me.  Master  Thomas!" 
he  said.  "And  if  I  live  I'll  pay  you  back  in  the  same  coin. 
To  send  a  man  of  my  age  across  that  wretched  mountain ; 
to  leave  him  to  feed  his  own  horse  and  cook  his  own  supper : 
and  then  to  sleep  here  alone,  or  the  same  thing  as  alone, 
in  a  place  where  murder  has  been  quite  too  common  of 
late  to  make  a  visit  to  it  agreeable,  even  in  the  daytime, 
may  be  a  very  pleasant  joke  to  you,  but  it's  something  I 
shall  not  forget,  or  forgive  either." 

"Why,  doctor,  I'm  sure  I  thought  your  patient  would 
be  the  better  for  some  one's  presence  during  the  night." 

*  A  common  country  expression,  which  means  an  hour  after  sun- 
rise or  an  hour  before  sunset.  It  is  used  indiflFerently,  and  under- 
stood according  to  the  time  of  day,  as  referring  to  the  morning  or 
the  evening.  Thus  the  expression  "the  sun  is  an  hour  high"  (or 
two,  or  three)  means,  in  the  morning,  that  it  is  an  hour  after  sun- 
rise, and  in  the  evening,  that  it  is  an  hour  before  sundown,  or  sun- 
set. This  explanation  will  be  deemed  superfluous  by  most  American 
readers,  but  a  Frenchman,  editing  an  American  paper,  amused  him- 
self, and  possibly  edified  his  readers,  in  the  course  of  a  criticism 
on  a  former  work,  by  a  learned  dissertation  upon  the  meaning  of 
the  words. 

18 


194  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

"  To  be  sure.  There's  no  doubt  about  that.  But  did 
you  think  be  needed  medical  attendance  ?  You  knew  well 
enough  that  he  had  no  more  need  of  a  doctor  than  you 
had,  and  you  sent  me  here  in  order  that  you  might  stay 
and  romp  with  the  girls." 

"No,  doctor,"  answered  Rogers  gravely.  "There  at 
least  you  wrong  me.  I  will  tell  you  all  after  breakfast. 
In  the  mean  time  allow  me  to  relieve  you  of  this  drudgery. 
I  will  perform  the  part  of  cook." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,"  was  the  decided  response.  "You 
have  vexed  me  enough  without  spoiling  my  breakfast  in  ad- 
dition. But  you  may  go  and  saddle  my  horse,  for  1  shall 
leave  this  place  as  soon  as  I  can  get  off  comfortably." 

Rogers  obeyed,  for  the  permission,  he  knew,  was  meant 
to  be  understood  as  an  inj unction.  The  horse  was  sad- 
dled and  brought  to  the  door  by  the  time  the  good  doctor 
announced  that  breakfast  was  ready.  The  meal  was  eaten 
by  one  party  in  silence.  By  the  other  amid  many  growl- 
ings  at  the  trick,  as  he  thought  it,  which  had  been  played 
upon  him,  intermingled  with  expressions  of  satisfaction  at 
the  success  of  his  own  cooking.  When  their  appetites 
were  appeased,  the  doctor  deliberately  threw  his  medical 
saddle-bags  (an  indispensable ,  article  to  a  country  practi- 
tioner) over  his  left  arm,  and  bidding  good-by  to  his 
patient,  walked  to  the  door,  saying,  as  he  did  so  : 

"I  have  no  ' good-hjs^  for  you,  Master  Thomas,  until 
you  are  well  paid  for  this  scurvy  business." 

Rogers  walked  out  with  him,  and,  taking  the  bridle  in 
his  own  hand,  led  the  horse  to  "the  bars."  Here  he  halted, 
and  said,  so  seriously  as  to  command  the  attention  of  his 
companion,  and  completely  drive  away  his  affected  "fit  of 
the  pouts :" 

"You  will  hear  strange  and  startling  news  on  the  other 
side  of  the  mountain,  doctor." 


TOBIAS    WILSOX.  195 

"  What  news  ?"  was  the  eager  response.  "  Nothing  has 
happened,  I  hope,  to  any  of  our  friends?" 

"Parson  Williams  is  dead." 

"  Parson  Williams  dead  1"  exclaimed  the  doctor,  trying 
to  manifest  a  feeling  of  interest  in  the  news,  which  was  be- 
lied by  the  long-drawn  breath  of  relief  that  followed  the 
exclamation.  "Parson  Williams  dead!  Well,  he  was  no 
patient  of  mine,  and  you  need  not  have  startled  me  by 
leaving  me  to  infer  that  it  was  some  member  of  your 
father's  family,  or  some  other  one  of  our  friends.  I'm 
sorry  he's  gone,  though  he  hated  me  as  he  did  a  rattlesnake. 
What  was  the  matter  with  him  ?  Apoplexy,  I  suppose  ;  I 
always  thought  he  had  a  tendency  to  apoplexy." 

"  It  was  not  apoplexy  that  cut  short  his  wicked  and 
dangerous  career.  It  was  a  rifle  bullet.  I  shot  him  dead 
this  morning  before  sunrise,  within  three  hundred  yards  of 
his  own  house." 

"  You  shot  him !  You  turned  murderer !  Oh !  Thomas 
Kogers  I  I  would  not  have  believed  it  if  fifty  men  had 
sworn  positively  to  your  guilt.  And  for  what  have  you 
made  a  confidant  of  me  ?  Why  should  you  darken  all  my 
future  life  by  making  me  the  repository  of  this  fearful 
secret?  Surely,  surely  I  have  'deserved  better  than  this 
of  your  father's  son." 

"  I  have  made  you  my  confidant,  doctor,  because  I  could 
not  help  it.  I  have  told  you  my  secret  only  to  keep  you 
from  betraying  me." 

"Me  betray  you  1  Me  betray  your  father's  son  I  Boy, 
you  are  cruel,  more  than  cruel." 

"  I  did  not  mean  that  you  would  betray  me  knowingly. 
You  have  misunderstood  me,  doctor,  entirely.  Listen. 
Every  one  who  was  at  my  sister's  wedding  yesterday  be- 
lieves that  I  slept  last  night  in  this  house.  They  know 
that  I  left  my  father's  with  the  avowed  purpose  of  keeping 


196  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

you  company.  If  you  had  not  been  apprised  of  the  facts, 
you  might  have  let  it  leak  out  that  I  did  not  return  until 
this  morning.  Then  suspicion  of  some  sort  would  have 
arisen  against  me,  and  the  end  of  it  would  have  been  that 
a  mass  of  circumstances  identifying  me  as  the  slayer  of 
Parson  Williams  would  have  been  brought  to  light.  Now 
that  you  are  aware  of  what  I  have  done,  you  will  be  on 
your  guard,  and  say  nothing  that  will  direct  suspicion  to 
me." 

"But  what  motive  could  you  have  had,  Thomas,  for 
killing  Parson  Williams?  He  was  a  bad  man,  but  he  was 
nothing  to  you.     Why  did  you  shoot  him  ?" 

Thomas  Rogers,  after  a  moment's  thought,  went  over, 
in  answer,  the  whole  story  of  Robert  Johnson's  murder  ; 
he  recited  all  the  damning  evidences  he  had  collected  of 
Parson  Williams's  participation  in  that  bloody  deed,  in- 
cluding the  confession  of  Biles.  He  added,  that  although 
he  had  fully  made  up  his  mind  to  kill  him  for  this  cause 
alone,  he  believed  his  heart  would  have  failed  him  and 
Williams  would  have  escaped  his  vengeance  but  for  a  rev- 
elation made  by  the  wounded  sergeant,  to  the  effect  that 
Williams  was  at  the  head  of  a  conspiracy  among  the  se- 
cessionists, who  were  to  be  aided  by  strolling  bands  of 
Wheeler's  cavalry,  to  rob  and  murder  all  the  known 
Unionists  in  that  part  of  the  country  as  soon  as  the  Union 
troops  were  withdrawn,  as  every  one  knew  they  must  be, 
to  assist  in  the  capture  of  Chattanooga.  "From  that 
hour,"  he  went  on  sternly,  "his  doom  was  sealed,  for  of 
course  I  knew  that  my  father  would  be  one  of  the  first 
victims,  and,  unless  I  am  grievously  mistaken,  there  was  a 
bloody  cross  over  your  door  also,  my  dear  doctor." 

"Like  enough,  Thomas, — it  is  like  enough;  but  still  I 
would  rather  have  braved  it,  than  to  have  had  your  hands 
so  deeply  dyed  in  blood." 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  197 

"And  I  had  rather  not.  Each  one  to  his  own  taste, 
doctor.  What  I  wish  now  particularly  is,  that  what  I 
have  don-e  shall  be  faithfully  kept  from  the  knowledge  of 
my  sister  Sophy  and  Ella  Whitlock.  Now  that  it  is  over, 
I  am  ready  to  avow  it,  and  to  justify  it  to  the  rest  of  the 
world ;  but  those  gentle  girls  must  not  be  wounded  through 
me  as  long  as  it  can  be  avoided.  It  will  grieve  them  both 
deeply  when  they  learn  the  whole  truth,  as  they  must  do 
in  the  course  of  time.  I  know  that  well  enough.  As  yet 
no  one  knows  anything  but  yourself.  Toby  and  Miller 
may  suspect,  but  they  would  suffer  their  right  arms  to  be 
severed  from  their  bodies  before  they  would  reveal  a  word 
of  their  suspicions.  To  hide  it  from  Sophy  and  Ella,  it 
must  be  hidden  from  all ;  and,  to  do  that,  you  must  be 
careful  to  let  no  word  escape  you  which  would  lead  to  a 
suspicion  that  I  passed  the  night  elsewhere  than  in  this 
house." 

"I  shall  take  good  care  of  that,  I  promise  you.  I  know 
too  well  what  anguish  it  will  bring  to  your  father,  not  to 
use  every  precaution  to  keep  that  knowledge  far  away 
from  him  as  long  as  it  can  be  done.  It  will  be  a  terrible 
blow  to  him." 

"I  know  my  father  well,  and  in  that  quarter  I  fear 
nothing.  He  would  not  have  done  the  deed  himself  for 
any  earthly  reward,  but  he  knows  how  well  these  villains 
deserved  the  doom  they  have  met,  and  he  will  soon  forgive 
me  for  playing  the  part  of  executioner  in  times  when,  and 
in  a  land  where  violated  law  has  no  public  vindicator.  I 
am  only  distressed  on  account  of  the  view  my  sister  and 
Ella  may  take  of  it,  if  they  should  learn  the  fact  before  I 
have  a  chance  to  explain  everything." 

"Your  sister  will  unquestionably  be  stricken  with  deep 
grief,  but  you  may  dismiss  your  fears  as  to  Ella.  I  was  at 
her  mother's  when  she  heard  the  news  of  Captain  Wilkins's 

18* 


198  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

death,  and,  instead  of  tears,  her  eyes  flashed  with  a  fire, 
which  looked  to  me  as  if  her  only  regret  was  that  her  own 
hand  had  not  inflicted  his  death-wound." 

"And  who  had  more  ample  cause  to  wish  him  in  the 
grave?"  exclaimed  Rogers  fiercely.  "He  dragged  her 
two  brothers  from  their  home,  and  sent  them  to  the  fatal 
field  of  Murfreesborough.  Their  bones  are  now  bleaching 
on  its  rocky  surface,  and  a  widowed  woman  and  an  orphan 
girl  are  left  without  a  rightful  protector  in  a  desolate  home. 
I  did  not  forget  this,  even  when  my  eye  was  glancing  along 
the  barrel  of  my  rifle ;  and  she  would  not  have  been  human 
if  she  had  forgotten  it  when  she  heard  that  justice  had 
overtaken  the  monster.  But  still,  doctor,  you  grievously 
misunderstand  that  gentle  and  loving  girl,  if  you  imagine 
it  will  not  pain  her  greatly  to  learn  that  a  friend  of  her 
mother's,  who  had  no  legal  warrant  for  the  deed,  has  rid 
the  earth  of  the  presence  of  that  villain,  to  say  nothing  of 
his  remorseless  associates.  A  'day  will  come,  if  I  live, 
when  I  must  tell  her  myself  Until  then,  keep  my  secret. 
If  I  am  killed,  or  come  to  my  end  by  other  means,  let  it  be 
buried  with  me." 

Dr.  GriflQn  assured  him  that  he  need  be  under  no  appre- 
hensions of  any  premature  disclosure,  bade  him  good-by 
warmly,  though  sadly,  and  rode  slowly  on  his  way,  ab- 
sorbed in  deep  and  anxious  thought.  For  the  first  time 
in  his  life  he  had  a  dark  secret  to  keep.  That  secret  was 
a  most  unwelcome  guest  in  his  bosom;  and  all  the  more 
so,  because  he  could  not  divest  himself  of  an  uneasy  con- 
viction that,  in  concealing  the  deed  (or  rather  the  deeds) 
to  which  his  young  friend  had  confessed,  he  became,  in 
some  sort,  jmrticeps  criminis. 

In  this  mood  he  returned,  according  to  promise,  to  the 
house  of  Mr.  Rogers,  where,  as  we  have  seen,  his  conduct 
betrayed  the  troubled  nature  of  his  thoughts.    To  his  great 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  199 

joy,  he  escaped  from  the  dinner-party  without  a  question 
having  been  propounded  to  him  that  required  prevarica- 
tion. When  it  was  over,  he  went  home,  to  commune  at 
leisure  with  himself  as  to  the  best  line  of  conduct  to  be 
pursued,  in  order  to  avert  suspicion  from  the  son  of  his 
old  and  valued  friend. 


CHAPTER  X. 

With  a  sad  and  troubled  expression  of  countenance 
Thomas  Rogers  gazed  after  the  good  doctor  as  he  rode 
up  the  mountain  side,  and  dark  and  bitter  were  the  reflec- 
tions which  came,  like  ravens,  to  build  their  nests  in  his 
bosom.  He  had  entered  upon  a  career  which  it  was  now 
beyond  his  power  to  shape  or  to  control.  No  matter 
where  it  led  —  through  thorns  and  brambles — through 
blood  and  tears  —  in  sunshine  and  in  shade  —  in  victory 
and  defeat — he  must  go  on,  and  on,  and  on — trampling, 
with  an  iron  heel,  upon  the  associations,  the  tender  affec- 
tions, the  very  memories  of  his  childhood  and  boyhood, 
and  sternly  snapping  asunder  those  links  of  friendship  that 
brightened  the  dawn  of  his  manhood.  He  had  put  his 
hand  to  a  plow  that  glued  it  there  with  the  power  of  a 
hundred  magnets,  and  there  it  must  remain  until  death 
severed  the  connection,  or  victory,  complete  and  decisive, 
over  the  mightiest  rebellion  ever  recorded  in  history,  pro- 
claimed that  his  work  was  done.  He  had  consecrated 
himself  to  a  great  cause  by  deeds  we  dare  not  commend, 
and  yet  may  well  hesitate  to  brand  as  crimes.  It  is  only 
in  a  very  limited  number  of  cases  that  the  motives  of  human 
action  can  be  penetrated  by  the  eyes  of  human  wisdom, 
and,  therefore,  we  make  no  allowance  for  those  motives  in 
our  judgment  of  bad  deeds,  because  we  cannot  tell  whether 
the  assigned  one  is  the  true  one.  Judged  by  this  standard, 
Thomas  Rogers  had  sinned  deeply.  But  who  will  dare 
aver  that  an  all-wise  Creator  will  regulate  his  sentence 
(200) 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  201 

according  to  the  crude  opinions  made  up  by  the  feeble  and 
flickering  lamp  of  human  reason  ?  Let  us  then  drop  the 
curtain  on  a  scene  where  there  is  so  much  of  doubt  and 
uncertainty — so  little  to  guide  us  aright.  This  at  least  is 
certain,  that,  whether  he  acted  as  a  vengeful  manslayer  or 
as  the  executor  of  public  justice — whether  his  deeds  sprung 
from  an  earnest  patriotism,  and  were  justifiable  on  the  prin- 
ciple of  self-defense — or  whether  they  came  reeking  from 
the  dark  and  turbid  pool  of  demoniac  passion,  the  effect 
was  to  so  intensify  his  hatred  of  treason,  and  all  the  fiend- 
like brood  it  never  fails  to  hatch,  that  he  gave  himself  up, 
body  and  mind,  heart  and  soul,  to  the  task  of  driving  it, 
with  fire  and  sword,  from  the  land  its  sirocco  breath  had 
blasted.  The  gibbet  and  the  cord  —  the  torch  and  the 
leaden  bullet  —  the  bayonet  and  the  cannon-shot, — these 
were  to  be  henceforth  his  instruments,  because  he  believed 
that  to  these  he  and  all  he  loved  would  be  given  up,  if  God 
in  his  anger  should  arm  the  traitor  with  power  to  indulge 
his  remorseless  instincts.  How  far  he  was  wrong  in  this 
conviction  will  probably  never  be  known.  Not  often  has 
this  orb  of  ours  witnessed  the  triumph  of  a  cause  so  wicked. 
There  is  a  Providence  above  us  whose  purposes  we  cannot 
comprehend,  and  sometimes,  to  our  limited  view,  the  aveng- 
ing blow  is  withheld,  and  the  criminal  runs  his  course  un- 
punished. And  so  it  may  be  with  those  who  wickedly 
snapped  asunder  the  cords  that  bound  this  Union  together 
— roused  into  guilty  action  all  the  worst  passions  of  the 
human  heart — sent  desolation  into  one  section,  and  mourn- 
ing and  tears  into  both, — and  all  upon  the  hellish  pretext 
that,  at  some  distant  and  uncertain  day  in  the  future,  the 
right  of  one  man  to  hold  his  fellow-man  in  bondage  might 
be  denied  by  the  General  Government.  It  may  be  that  in 
the  plan  of  Omnipotence  even  this  may  be  allowed  to  take 
its  place  upon  the  pages  of  history,  and  be  transmitted  to 


202  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

posterity  as  a  glorious  triumph,  instead  of  a  baffled  crime. 
But,  although  we  may  not  question  whatever  decree  is  ren- 
dered, it  is  allowable  for  us  to  hope,  and  trust,  and  believe 
that  the  same  page  which  records  "the  deep  damnation" 
of  this  rebellion  shall  also  transmit  to  future  ages  the  story 
of  its  utter  failure,  and  of  the  fearful  and  dread  retribu- 
tion which  overtook  its  instigators. 

Thomas  Rogers  was  not  of  a  nature  to  indulge  long  in 
gloomy  reflections.  He  was  a  man  of  action ;  prompt, 
decided,  and  energetic,  whatever  he  had  to  do  was  done 
without  hesitation  or  delay.  He  had  agreed  with  Miller 
upon  a  plan  of  raising  a  company  of  mounted  men,  and 
tendering  their  services  to  Gen.  Rosecrans.  As  Miller 
expected  to  enlist  a  large  portion  of  the  company  from  his 
old  comrades  in  Wheeler's  cavalry,  their  proceedings  were 
necessarily  delayed  on  account  of  his  wounds.  While 
Rogers  was  occupied  with  the  mission  of  vengeance  he  had 
undertaken,  this  delay  was  a  matter  of  no  importance ;  but 
that  was  over  now,  and  with  his  accustomed  restlessness  he 
began  to  calculate  how  long  it  would  be  before  Miller  would 
be  able  to  mount  his  horse.  The  time  which  must  elapse 
before  this  was  possible,  under  the  most  favorable  circum- 
stances, seemed  to  his  impatient  spirit  an  age,  and  he  re- 
solved to  set  about  the  work  himself.  In  order  to  do  this 
it  was  necessary  to  get  some  one  to  remain  with  Miller 
during  his  own  absence,  and  pay  some  little  attention  to 
the  place.  With  these  half-formed  projects  in  his  head  he 
re-entered  the  house,  after  Dr.  Griffin's  departure,  to  hold 
a  consultation  with  Miller.  When  his  views  had  been  com- 
municated to  the  sergeant  they  were  received  with  a  prompt 
and  cheerful  assent. 

"I  can  do  something,  myself,"  continued  the  soldier, 
"  while  I'm  laid  up  here  in  limbo.  I'll  write  a  few  lines  to 
some  of  the  boys,  which  you  can  show  'em,  and  if  they 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  203 

don't  stick  to  you,  and  do  what  you  tell  'em,  I'm  badly 
fooled." 

So  far  everything  was  satisfactory  to  Eogers.  The  dif- 
ficulty^ which  he  saw  the  least  chance  of  getting  over,  was 
where  to  find  a  man  willing  to  come  and  stay  with  Miller, 
who  was,  at  the  same  time,  entirely  trustworthy,  who  could 
be  fully  relied  on  not  to  betray  any  of  the  secrets  which 
must  come  to  his  knowledge,  to  the  injury  of  the  principal 
parties.  Upon  stating  this  difficulty  to  Miller,  he  was 
greatly  relieved  by  a  reply,  which  the  author  takes  the  lib- 
erty of  giving  in  his  own  language,  rather  than  the  patois 
of  the  mountains. 

"  There  is  no  difficulty  about  that.  It  will  only  cost  you 
a  ride  of  ten  or  eleven  miles.  I  know  a  man  who  will 
come,  and  he  is  the  man  of  all  others  I  had  rather  have 
about  me.  His  name  is  John  Franklin,  and  he  lives  on 
Hurricane  Creek.  From  what  he  told  me  I  do  not  think 
that  John  had  any  particular  politics  before  the  war.  He 
was  a  Democrat,  and  was  therefore  put  down  as  a  seces- 
sionist, but  the  probability  is  that  he  never  would  have 
been  dragged  into  the  commission  of  treason  if  he  had  not 
fallen  in  love  with  Sarah  Austin,  whose  father  was  a  rabid 
fire-eater.  Unlike  most  of  that  brood,  when  war  came  in 
earnest,  Mr.  Austin  shouldered  his  musket,  and  went  forth 
like  a  man  to  fight  for  the  principles  he  professed.  John 
Franklin,  from  love  for  his  daughter,  followed  her  father's 
example.  After  much  hard  service,  Mr.  Austin  was  killed 
and  John  desperately  wounded,  at  Perryville.  John  lin- 
gered for  a  long  time  in  the  hospital,  and  when  he  was  able 
to  travel,  came  home  en  furlough.  The  next  day  he  went 
over  to  see  Sarah  and  tell  her  all  he  knew  of  the  last  hours 
of  her  father's  life.  But  he  was  too  late  by  several  weeks. 
A  Confederate  captain,  who  had  been  in  the  battle,  and 
who  had  come  home  for  the  purpose  of  recruiting  his  com- 


204  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

pany,  heard  Mr.  Austin's  story  in  the  neighborhood,  and, 
calling  at  the  widow's  house,  became  acquainted  with  Sarah. 
His  visits  were  repeated  many  times,  and  by  some  means 
he  completely  won  the  foolish  girl's  heart.  I  do  not  know 
how,  for  he  is  both  ugly  and  awkward.  Perhaps  it  was 
because  he  had  fought  on  the  same  field  where  her  father 
fell.  He  pretended  to  know  all  about  Mr.  Austin,  told  of 
the  dangers  and  hardships  they  had  encountered  together, 
said  he  was  by  him  when  he  was  shot  down,  and  had  raised 
his  head,  and  poured  some  brandy  in  his  mouth.  John 
Franklin  is  ready  to  swear  that  he  never  spoke  to  Mr. 
Austin  in  his  life,  and  did  not  know  him  when  he  saw  him  ; 
but  the  girl  believed  his  story,  and  either  on  that  account, 
or  on  account  of  the  gold  lace  that  bedizzened  his  coat, 
gave  him  her  love.  He  took  advantage  of  this,  promised 
to  marry  her — ruined  her,  and  left  her.  It  was  a  long  time 
before  John  found  out  this.  He  saw  plainly  at  his  first 
visit  that  Sarah  took  no  pleasure  in  his  society,  so  he  kept 
away,  and  the  captain  had  the  field  to  himself.  Little  by 
little  John  heard  enough  to  make  him  guess  the  worst. 
By  that  time  the  captain  was  gone,  or  John  says  he  would 
have  murdered  him,  or  made  him  keep  his  word  and  marry 
the  silly  girl.  At  first  he  wrote  to  her  whenever  an  op- 
portunity oflfered,  but  suddenly  his  letters  stopped.  She 
still  hopes  for  his  return,  and  believes  him  honest.  And 
as  she  does  not  suspect  that  her  shame  is  known  to  any 
one  but  her  mother,  she  bears  up  very  well.  It  will  not 
advance  me  in  your  good  opinion  to  tell  how  I  came  to 
know  it,  but  as  I  have  already  confessed  to  worse  things 
than  that,  it  is  not  worth  while  to  keep  the  secret.  I  came 
to  this  country  soon  after  the  battle  of  Murfreesborough, 
and  stopped  one  night  at  Mrs.  Austin's  house.  I  did  not 
know  any  of  the  family,  but  during  the  evening  both  the 
old  lady  and  the  young  one  asked  me  a  great  many  ques- 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  205 

tions.  They  soon  learned  that  I  had  served  with  Mr.  Aus- 
tin ;  that  I  was  in  the  battle  in  which  he  was  killed,  and 
that  I  was  still  serving  in  the  same  regiment  with  Sarah's 
lover,  (though  I  did  not  then  know  he  was  her  lover,)  and 
that  I  was  going  back  to  the  regiment  in  a  day  or  two. 

"  The  next  morning,  when  I  was  about  to  start,  Sarah 
followed  me  to  the  door,  and  handed  me  a  letter  which 
she  begged  I  would  put  into  the  captain's  own  hand.  She 
was  shivering,  and  I  thought  I  could  see  signs  of  tears  on 
her  cheeks ;  but  it  was  very  cold,  and  that  would  account 
for  the  shivering,  while  I  might  have  been  mistaken  about 
the  tears.  I  promised  everything  she  asked,  and  rode  away. 
I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  carrying  written  papers  about  me 
in  these  times  without  knowing  exactly  what  is  in  them. 
Accordingly,  as  soon  as  I  was  out  of  sight,  I  opened  and 
read  the  letter.  Its  contents  were  sufficient  to  determine 
me  to  pay  my  old  friend,  John  Franklin,  a  visit.  That 
night  I  put  up  at  his  house,  and  before  bedtime  he  was  a 
wiser  man  than  he  had  been  for  two  years  or  more.  When 
I  asked  him  for  another  envelope  to  replace  the  one  I  had 
broken  open,  he  begged  me  not  to  deliver  the  letter,  but  to 
leave  it  with  him,  which  I  did.  From  that  day  he  aban- 
doned the  idea  of  returning  to  the  Confederate  army. 
His  furlough  has  long  since  run  out,  and  when  the  Union 
troops  leave  here  he  will  be  compelled  to  take  to  the 
woods  or  be  shot  as  a  deserter.  Such  a  hiding-place  as 
this  will  be  a  'God-send'  to  him,  and  I  know  he  can  be 
trusted  fully  and  entirely.  If  you  have  no  objection  I  will 
write  to  him  to  come  at  once." 

''The  sooner  the  better,"  answered  Rogers.  "But  tell 
me  the  name  of  this  redoubtable  captain." 

"  Captain  Joseph  Sykes." 

"Joe  Sykes  1"  exclaimed  Rogers,  in  astonishment;  "oh, 
what  a  double-dyed,  infernal  villain  he  must  be  I" 

19 


206  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

"Do  you  know  him,  sir?" 

"Do  I  know  him  ?  Yes,  I  do  know  him,  and  he  knows 
me  too ;  but  he  shall  know  me  better  before  long,  unless 
my  right  hand  proves  false  to  its  owner." 

"Well,  sir,  I've  nothin'  to  say  agin  that,  excepting  that 
John  Franklin's  got  a  preference  right  to  send  a  bullet 
through  his  carcass,  and  as  that's  the  only  comfort  left  him, 
I  hope  you  won't  take  it  from  him." 

"True,"  answered  Rogers,  "he  has  the  better  right. 
We  will  settle  it  somehow  between  us." 

He  mused  awhile,  then,  returning  to  the  subject-matter 
of  their  conversation,  he  said : 

"You  may  as  well  write  the  letter  now,  sergeant.  I 
shall  not  go  until  to-morrow,  as  there  are  some  things  here 
that  must  be  attended  to.  You  can  write  while  I  am  out; 
I  will  not  be  gone  long." 

Propping  the  wounded  man  in  a  sitting  posture,  placing 
pen,  ink,  and  paper  within  reach  of  his  hand,  and  arrang- 
ing a  piece  of  plank  so  as  to  answer  the  purposes  of  a 
writing  table,  he  left  the  room  to  look  after  the  many  little 
things  about  the  farm  which  he  thought  required  his  atten- 
tion. On  his  return,  the  following  characteristic  note  was 
put  into  his  hands  : 

"  Jackson  County,  Alaba^ia. 

"  Dear  Jack — I'm  badly  hurted,  and  you  must  come  and 
see  me  at  onst.  I  can't  write  the  perticklers,  but  the  man 
who  carries  these  few  lines  can  tell  'em  to  you. 

"  Your  friend  til  deth, 

"JAMES  MILLER. 

"  Posscrip.  Bring  all  your  things,  at  aulivense'^  bring 
your  gun  and  all  your  ammynishon. 

"  N.  B.  Keep  dark,  and  tear  this  letter  up.  Don't  tell 
nobody  I'm  hurted,  or  whar  I  am." 


*  All  events. 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  207 

When  Rogers  had  with  some  difficulty  deciphered  the 
contents  of  the  foregoing  epistle,  he  inquired : 

"  Where  does  your  friend  live  ?" 

We  spare  the  reader  the  minute  description  of  the 
locality,  and  of  the  by-ways  leading  to  it,  that  followed. 
Rogers  listened  patiently,  and  without  interrupting  him, 
to  the  end,  although  it  was  much  more  prolix  than  was  at 
all  necessary  for  his  information,  he  having  a  tolerably  ac- 
curate knowledge  of  the  country,  and  of  the  roads  and 
paths  by  which  it  was  traversed. 

"  I  shall  find  him  easily,"  he  replied.  ''  Indeed,  I  think 
I  know  the  house.     Did  you  write  any  other  letters  ?" 

"Xo,  sir.  At  first  I  thought  I  would.  But  I  wanted 
to  see  John  first,  and  git  him  to  tell  me  how  the  land 
lay.  I  warn't  much  afeerd  of  making  any  mistake,  but  it 
is  best  to  be  sure.  And,  besides,  I  don't  know  whar  some 
of  the  boys  are,  and  couldn't  tell  you  how  to  find  'em 
without  your  runnin'  the  risk  of  bein'  shot  by  some  on'em. 
When  John  Franklin  comes  it'll  be  smooth  and  quick 
work." 

This  view  of  the  case  was  well  and  soundly  reasoned, 
and  Thomas  Rogers  was  satisfied  that  prudence  required 
them  to  await  the  coming  of  their  new  ally  before  attempt- 
ing anything  further. 

Before  the  first  light  of  the  sun  had  gilded  the  tops  of 
the  mountains  on  the  following  morning,  Rogers  was  on 
his  way"  to  the  home  of  the  man  for  whom  a  common  de- 
sire of  revenge  upon  the  same  individual  already  inclined 
him  to  cherish  feelings  of  more  than  usual  regard.  From 
one  who  carried  in  his  bosom  the  memory  of  such  a  wrong 
there  was  little  fear  of  betrayal,  and  his  fidelity  was  further 
secured  by  the  peril  in  which  he  stood.  In  addition  to 
this,  the  manner  in  which  he  had  kept  the  secret  of  the 
guilty  girl  who  had  deserted  him  for  a  worthless  scoundrel 


208  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

was  an  honorable  guarantee  of  genuine  manliness  of  char- 
acter. 

As  he  anticipated,  he  found  no  difficulty  in  raaking  his 
way  directly  to  the  cabin  of  the  soldier,  who  was  now  also  a 
deserter.  But  he  was  not  allowed  to  enter  the  door  with- 
out some  stern  questioning  as  to  the  objects  of  his  visit. 
The  letter  of  Sergeant  Miller  proved  to  be  entirely  satis- 
factory, and  as  soon  as  Franklin  had  run  his  eyes  over  the 
lines  he  cordially  invited  his  visitor  to  enter,  at  the  same 
time  inquiring  his  name.  Rogers  had  ridden  hard,  and  it 
was  yet  long  before  the  breakfast  hour  of  cities  when  he 
reached  his  place  of  destination.  The  poor  cannot  afford 
to  indulge  in  "morning  naps," and  tre  generally  beginning 
to  think  of  their  dinners  by  the  time  the  rich  and  luxuriant 
have  coaxed  back  the  appetite  stolen  away  by  the  night's 
indulgences.  The  breakfast  things  in  the  cabin  of  John 
Franklin  had  been  removed  more  than  an  hour  before,  but 
that  individual,  knowing  the  distance  his  guest  had  traveled, 
jumped  to  the  conclusion  that  he  must  be  hungry,  and 
calling  his  mother,  with  ready  hospitality  he  said  :        * 

"  Mother,  git  Mr.  Rogers  some  breakfast,  please  mam, 
while  I  feed  his  horse." 

Rogers  protested  against  giving  the  old  lady  so  much 
trouble,  said  he  had  eaten  "a  bite"  before  leaving  home, 
and  denied  that  he  felt  hungry  in  the  least  degree.  Frank- 
lin insisted  upon  his  taking  a  cup  of  coffee,  (an  uncommon 
luxury  in  that  region,)  and  his  mother  joined  him,  declar- 
ing it  was  "not  the  least  mite  of  trouble."  It  was  impos- 
sible to  decline  their  offers  without  rudeness,  and,  indeed, 
his  early  ride  had  sharpened  his  appetite,  and  the  cup  of 
coffee  was  no  light  temptation  in  itself.  For  nearly  an 
hour  the  time  passed  pleasantly  enough,  considering  that 
there  were  so  many  subjects  of  conversation  upon  which 
neither  cared  to  touch;  neither  knowicg  exactly  how  far 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  209 

it  might  be  pleasing,  or  the  reverse,  to  the  other.  At 
length  Mrs.  Franklin  left  the  room,  and  the  two  men  en- 
tered upon  the  same  serious  business  that  had  brought 
them  together.  Rogers  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  com- 
municate to  his  companion  anything  further  than  the  fact 
that  Miller  had  been  badly  wounded  in  a  skirmish,  that  he 
had  been  taken  to  the  house  of  Tobias  Wilson,  and  was 
now  doing  remarkably  well. 

''The  sergeant,"  he  added,  "is  much  troubled  on  ac- 
count of  the  danger  of  capture  to  which  he  is  subjected  in 
his  present  helpless  state.  I  must  often  leave  him  alone, 
and  at  such  times  it  would  be  very  consoling  to  have  a 
true  and  faithful  friend  to  watch  by  his  side.  He  earnestly 
begs  that  you  will  go  back  with  me  to-day.  He  says  that 
he  has  matters  of  life  and  death  to  talk  to  you  about,  and 
among  other  things  he  told  me  that  there  is  a  plan  on  foot 
to  catch  you ;  to  have  you  carried  South,  and  shot  as  a 
deserter." 

Franklin  manifested  no  surprise  at  this  announcement. 

"I  thought  as  much,*'  he  replied;  "and  when  I  saw  you 
riding  up  this  morning  I  half  suspected  that  you  had  come 
on  that  business,  and  (meaning  no  offense)  I  thought  you 
was  a  great  fool  to  come  on  such  an  errand  by  yourself. 
But  that's  neither  here  nor  there.  I've  been  looking  out 
for  something  of  the  kind,  and  my  'saddle  wallet'  has  been 
packed  for  more  than  a  week.  I'm  glad  you've  come,  or  I 
might  have  stayed  a  leetle  too  late.  I'll  go  with  you  right 
away.  When  a  thing  is  settled,  the  sooner  it's  done  the 
better;  and  so  if  yQu've  no  'objection  we'll  saddle  up  our 
horses  and  ride.     Are  you  ready  to  go  ?" 

"Certainly,"  replied  Rogers,  who  was  delighted  with 
the  promptness  of  his  new  acquaintance.  "I  foresee  that 
we  are  destined  to  become  fast  friends.     I  love  men  who 

19* 


210  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

are  ready  to  act  as  soon  as  they  decide.  Your  'slow 
coaches'  won't  do  for  me," 

In  a  yery  short  time  the  two  men  were  riding  toward 
the  house  of  Tobias  Wilson.  Franklin  bade  adieu  to  his 
mother  alone ;  he  did  not  take  time  to  visit  the  field  where 
the  younger  members  of  the  family  were  at  work,  but  left 
his  adieus  for  them  with  his  mother. 

As  they  rode  on,  Rogers  explained  to  his  companion,  as 
far  as  he  deemed  it  prudent  to  do  so,  the  future  plans  and 
purposes  of  himself  and  Miller,  so  that  by  the  time  they 
reached  the  little  valley,  Franklin  was  possessed  of  all  that 
was  essential  for  him  to  know.  His  meeting  with  Miller 
was  warm  and  cordial,  but  it  was  exhibited  rather  in  the 
firm  grasp  of  their  hands  and  the  glow  upon  their  counte- 
nances than  in  spoken  words.  Such  men  rarely  give  utter- 
ance to  any  strong  expressions  of  friendship  for  each  other. 
A  few  words  sufficed  to  convey  to  Miller  the  knowledge 
that  Franklin  was  already  informed  of  their  plans,  and  was 
resolved  to  remain  and  share  their  fortunes  with  them. 
After  this  the  three  entered  into  an  earnest  consultation, 
which  lasted  throughout  the  afternoon  and  deep  into  the 
night.  The  subject  of  that  consultation  may  be  easily 
guessed  by  the  reader.  Its  results  will  be  developed  in 
the  following  pages. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Three  weeks  passed  away  —  three  busy  weeks  to  the 
tenants  of  that  lonely  glen.  They  had  succeeded  in  secur- 
ing arms  and  ammunition  from  the  commander  of  the  U.  S. 
troops  in  that  vicinity.  These  arms  were  carefully  hidden 
by  Rogers  himself,  in  the  cave  described  in  the  first  series. 
For  that  purpose,  he  had  selected  times  when  Franklin 
was  away  upon  other  duties,  not  choosing  as  yet  to  intrust 
that  important  secret  to  any  one,  even  of  his  own  followers. 
When  Franklin  returned,  and  missed  the  arms,  Rogers 
merely  remarked  that  he  had  hidden  them  in  the  mount- 
ains, which  explanation  was  always  deemed  altogether 
sufficient. 

The  muster-roll  of  the  company  now  showed  nearly  one 
hundred  recruits.  A  large  part  of  these  were  old  friends 
and  companions  of  Miller  and  Franklin,  and  were  both 
well  armed  and  well  mounted.  The  remainder  were  young 
men  recruited  in  the  neighborhood,  who  were  for  the  most 
part  possessed  of  excellent  horses,  but  were  without  effect- 
ive arms.  These  were  to  be  supplied  by  Thomas  Rogers, 
from  his  store  in  the  cave,  and  the  next  Saturday  had  been 
appointed  as  the  day  for  their  assembling  in  the  glen  to 
receive  them.  In  these  preparations  Rogers  had  acted 
with  great  precaution,  never  allowing  more  than  eight  or 
ten  of  his  men  to  assemble  at  one  time  at  the  house  of 
Tobias  Wilson,  and  these  were  always  brought  in  by  the 
two  lonely  pathways  which  led  into  the  valley  over  the 

(211) 


212  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

mountains.  No  one  but  his  associates  suspected  the  busi- 
ness in  which  he  was  engaged,  much  less  how  near  he  had 
brought  it  to  completion.  The  following  Saturday  (three 
days  off)  would  see  him  at  the  head  of  at  least  one  hun- 
dred young,  strong,  daring,  well-armed  men,  ready  to  en- 
gage in  any  enterprise  which  promised  to  be  of  advantage 
to  the  cause  of  the  Union. 

While  he  is  waiting  for  the  day  of  rendezvous  to  arrive, 
let  us  take  a  brief  view  of  matters  on  the  other  side  of  the 
mountain.  The  TJDion  cavalry  had  been  withdrawn  from 
all  the  posts  east  of  Stevenson,  and  united  under  the  com- 
mand of  General  Stanley,  who  was  preparing  to  cross  the 
Tennessee  River  and  make  a  demonstration  along  the  line 
of  Eastern  Alabama  and  Western  Georgia,  chiefly  to  create 
a  diversion  in  favor  of  the  infantry,  who  had  before  them 
the  hard  task  of  fighting  their  way  into  Chattanooga.  Im- 
mediately after  their  departure,  little  squads  of  scattered 
Confederates  had  begun  to  appear  in  the  neighborhood ; 
but  they  had  committed  no  depredations,  and  the  inhabit- 
ants felt  but  little  alarm  from  their  presence.  On  the  night 
after  the  day  to  which  our  story  has  reached,  a  larger  band 
than  any  which  had  yet  been  seen  together  surrounded  the 
house  of  Thomas  Rogers,  Senior,  and  demanded  admit- 
tance. This  was  refused ;  and,  as  had  been  foreseen  by 
the  inmates,  the  captain  immediately  ordered  the  doors  to 
be  burst  open.  Mr.  Rogers  had  no  hope  of  keeping  them 
out,  and  his  only  object  was  to  gain  time  for  the  escape  of 
Tobias  Wilson,  whose  seizure,  with  a  view  to  conscription, 
he  suspected  was  the  main  object  of  the  marauders.  Act- 
ing under  the  same  impression,  Tobias  Wilson  hastily 
dressed,  and  threw  himself  from  the  window  of  his  room ; 
but  this  was  an  outlet  they  had  not  neglected  to  guard, 
and  his  foot  had  scarcely  touched  the  ground  when  a  heavy 
blow  upon  his  shoulder  and  another  upon  his  head  felled 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  213 

him,  stunned  and  senseless,  to  the  earth.  Before  he  could 
recover,  he  was  fast  bound  and  secured.  In  the  mean  time 
the  doors  had  been  battered  down,  and  the  soldiers  rushed 
in,  the  captain  immediately  and  loudly  ordering  lights  to 
be  procured.  When  this  was  done,  the  fact  of  Tobias  Wil- 
son's capture  was  communicated  to  him,  and  his  prisoner 
was  led  into  his  presence.     After  one   glance,  he  said, 

roughly : 

''We  have  no  time  for  explanation  now.  There  ought 
to  be  another  bird  in  this  nest.  Four  or  five  of  you  search 
the  house,  and  let  the  rest  search  the  stables  and  out- 
houses." 

"If  you  mean  my  son,"  said  Mr.  Rogers,  "he  is  far  away 

from  here,  and  safe." 

"We  will  take  your  word  for  it,"  replied  the  captain, 
"when  we  can  do  no  better;  but  we  will  first  try  whether 
he  cannot  be  unearthed  somewhere  about  these  premises." 

"Search  as  much  as  you  please,"  said  Mr.  Rogers;  "but 
I  assure  you  it  will  be  in  vain." 

During  this  scene,  the  two  women  had  behaved  with  ad- 
mirable courage  and  fortitude.  They  stood,  half-dressed, 
in  a  corner  of  the  room,  with  their  arms  about  each  other, 
scorning  alike  to  plead  or  to  give  vent  to  cries  and  lament- 
ations, which  would  probably  only  excite  the  merriment  of 
the  brutal  men  who  had  so  rudely  broken  their  slumbers. 
Once  only,  when  Tobias  Wilson  was  first  brought  into  the 
room,  a  violent  shudder  shook  the  frame  of  his  young  wife, 
and  large  tear-drops  rolled  slowly  down  her  cheeks ;  but 
there  was  no  outcry,  no  begging  for  mercy,  no  attempt  to 
soften  the  hard  and  pitiless  hearts  of  his  captors.  She 
'  looked  at  her  husband  steadily  for  a  moment  or  more,  and 
to  her  heart  his  returning  gaze  carried  hope,  and  forbade 
her  to  despair. 

The  search  was  concluded,  and  no  vestige  of  their  in- 


214  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

tended  victim  could  be  found.  Captain  Joseph  Sykes — 
for  it  was  he — now  addressed  a  series  of  questions  to  Mr. 
Rogers,  the  answers  to  which  were  anything  but  satisfac- 
tory. While  engaged  in  this  occupation,  and  too  busy  to 
notice  anything  himself,  one  of  the  soldiers,  who  was  sta- 
tioned near  the  back  door,  suddenly  exclaimed,  "  The  barn 
is  on  fire !" 

The  eyes  of  all  were  instantly  turned  in  that  direction, 
and,  sure  enough,  bright  flames  were  issuing  from  every 
crevice  of  the  building.  To  do  Captain  Sykes  justice,  he 
had  contemplated  no  such  result  as  this,  and  he  imme- 
diately rushed  into  the  yard,  all  of  his  soldiers  following 
him,  except  the  guard  over  the  prisoner.  It  was  apparent 
that  it  had  been  accidentally  fired  by  a  spark  falling  from 
the  torch  of  some  of  those  who  had  been  in  search  of 
Thomas  Rogers.  The  first  glance  proved  that  it  would 
be  useless  to  attempt  to  save  the  barn  or  any  portion  of 
its  contents.  Fortunately,  the  out-houses,  which  contained 
the  horses  and  other  descriptions  of  stock,  were  some  dis- 
tance off,  and  to  these  Captain  Sykes  promptly  turned  the 
attention  of  his  soldiers.  By  great  exertion,  the  animals 
were  released  before  the  fire  had  extended  to  the  buildings 
where  they  were  confined.  The  flames  had  now  burst  from 
the  roof  of  the  barn,  and  showers  of  sparks,  sent  up  from 
the  light  material  burning  within,  were  falling  everywhere 
about  them ;  while  no  water  was  to  be  procured,  save  what 
was  to  be  obtained  from  a  well,  from  which  it  had  to  be 
drawn  by  a  single  bucket.  The  weather  had  been  exceed- 
ingly dry,  and  a  fresh  breeze  was  then  blowing.  To  save 
anything,  under  such  circumstances  and  with  such  means, 
was  clearly  impossible,  and  the  soldiers  hastily  returned  to 
the  dwelling  of  Mr.  Rogers.  There  they  found  him  on  the 
top  of  the  house,  assisted  by  one  of  their  band,  endeavoring 
to  extinguish  the  blazing  sparks,  which  were  thickly  falling 
upon  it. 


TOBIAS   WILSON.  215 

f 

"That's  right,"  shouted  Captain  Sykes,  "do  what  you 
can  to  keep  it  under  for  awhile.  It  will  certainly  catch 
directly ;  but  you  may  do  something  toward  giving  us 
time  to  remove  the  furniture.  Come,  my  men,"  he  added, 
turning  to  the  soldiers,  "rush  in  and  save  all  you  can  from 
the  effects  of  your  d — d  carelessness." 

A'll  the  furniture  contained  in  the  house  was  soon  re- 
moved to  a  place  of  safety;  but,  as  Captain  Sykes  had 
predicted,  the  house  itself  was  in  flames. 

Tobias  Wilson  had  looked  at  everything  which  had  been 
going  on  before  him  with  both  surprise  and  curiosity.  To 
him  Captain  Sykes  now  appeared  in  a  more  amiable  light 
than  he  had  ever  done  before,  and  he  almost  forgave  him 
the  fact  that  it  was  through  him  that  he  was  himself  a 
prisoner,  bound,  bruised,  bleeding,  and  destined,  he  well 
knew,  for  the  slavish  life  of  a  conscript  soldier.  His  re- 
flections upon  the  apparent  inconsistencies  w^hich  that  night 
had  exhibited  in  the  redoubtable  captain's  character  were 
cut  short  by  the  harsh  voice  of  the  captain  himself.  Ad- 
dressing his  soldiers,  he  shouted  :  "  Mount,  men,  and  away 
with  your  prisoner.  This  light  can  be  seen  for  five  miles 
around,  and  there  are  neighbors  enough  within  less  than  a 
mile  to  render  all  the  assistance  that  is  now  needful  or  pos- 
sible. We  have  a  long  ride  before  us,  and  no  time  to  lose." 

When  these  words  fell  upon  her  ears,  Sophy,  for  the 
first  time,  approached  her  husband,  and,  taking  his  manacled 
hands  in  hers,  pressed  a  warm  kiss  upon  his  lips ;  he  re- 
turned it  with  interest,  and,  as  he  did  so,  whispered  the 
single  word  "hope."  From  the  bright  flash  w^hich  came 
into  her  eyes,  he  saw  that  he  was  understood.  Then,  rais- 
ing his  voice,  he  said  aloud  :  "Father,  mother,  wife,  good- 
by  until  we  meet  again." 

There  was  an  emphasis  upon  the  words  ''until  ice  meet 
again^^  which  was  unnoticed  by  the  soldiers,  but  which  con- 


216  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

veyed  a  world  of  meaning  to  those  for  whom  it  was  in- 
tended. Each  one  felt  sure  that  he  had  already  devised  a 
means  of  escape,  and  that  their  separation  would  not  be 
for  long. 

Captain  Sykes  treated  his  prisoner  with  no  unnecessary 
harshness.  Once  in  his  power,  it  was  his  policy  to  con- 
ciliate, not  to  exasperate  him.  The  service  to  whic*h  he 
was  destined  was  suflSciently  odious  of  itself  without  making 
it  more  so  by  abuse  beforehand,  thus  furnishing  an  addi- 
tional motive  for  attempts  at  escape  before  he  was  forced 
into  the  ranks  of  the  Confederate  army,  or  for  desertion 
afterward.  Still  he  neglected  no  precaution  to  insure  the 
safe  delivery  of  his  captive.  Beyond  the  outer  fence,  where 
the  horses  of  his  party  had  been  left  under  a  guard,  he  re- 
moved the  light  rope  which  had  confined  Wilson's  hands, 
and  substituted  a  pair  of  iron  handcuffs.  He  was  then 
mounted  on  one  of  the  led  horses  of  the  troop,  and  placed 
near  the  middle  of  the  command  with  positive  injunctions 
to  those  around  him  to  Shoot  him  the  very  instant  that  he 
exhibited  any  symptom  of  an  intention  to  escape.  The 
whole  party  then  moved  off  in  a  southwesterly  direction 
through  deep  woods,  tangled  undergrowth,  and  over  paths 
which  were  everywhere  of  the  roughest  description. 

If  there  had  been  light  enough  for  Captain  Sykes  to 
have  seen  the  face  of  his  prisoner  when  he  substituted  the 
handcuffs  for  the  hempen  cord,  he  would  have  seen  some- 
thing there  to  make  him  hesitate.  The  fact  was,  that  the 
hands  of  Tobias  Wilson  were  so  small  in  comparison  with 
the  size  of  his  arm,  that  he  could  easily  withdraw  them 
from  any  handcuff  that  would  clasp  over  his  wrist.  It  was 
a  knowledge  of  this  that  brought  a  smile  of  gladness  to  his 
lips  when  he  felt  the  cold  iron  encircle  his  wrist.  He  had 
not  ridden  far  before  he  cautiously  made  an  experiment  to 
ascertain  whether  his  hands  could  be  withdrawn  as  easily 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  217 

as  he  supposed.  Having  satisfied  himself  upon  this  point, 
he  felt  perfectly  certain  that  the  morning  would  not  dawn 
upon  him  a  prisoner,  and  that  he  had  only  to  watch  and 
wait  for  a  fair  chance  to  escape. 

One  other  matter  is  necessary  to  be  explained  in  this 
place.  Ever  since  the  first  threats  which  had  been  uttered 
against  his  grandfather,  he  had  habitually  worn  about  his 
person  a  long  two-edged  knife,  but  not  liking  the  usual 
manner  of  belting  it  around  the  waist  where  it  could  be 
seen  by  every  one,  he  adopted  the  expedient  of  having  a 
narrow  pocket  quilted  far  back  in  the  breast  of  his  coat. 
In  this  way  it  had  escaped  the  search  of  his  captors ;  in- 
deed, they  made  no  actual  search  ;  one  of  them  had  put 
his  hands  about  his  waist  to  ascertain  whether  he  carried 
pistols,  and  finding  none,  no  further  examination  was 
prosecuted. 

The  night  had  been  gradually  growing  cloudy,  and  now 
a  thick  pall  was  spread  between  the  stars  and  the  earth. 
The  troop,  however,  had  advanced  steadily  on  its  way,  as 
if  guided  by  some  one  who  knew  every  inch  of  the  ground 
by  night  as  well  as  by  day.  At  length  they  entered  a 
heavier  growth  of  timber  than  any  through  which  they  had 
yet  passed  :  here  it  was  so  dark  that  a  man  could  not  see 
his  own  hand  within  two  inches  of  his  eyes.  Tobias  Wil- 
son heard  one  of  the  soldiers  near  him  mutter,  "  This  is 
Paint  Rock  bottom ;  we  shall  have  a  good  road  when  we 
have  crossed  the  river." 

"Now,"  thought  Tobias  Wilson,  "is  my  time."  He  knew 
that  the  only  way  of  crossing  the  river  anywhere  near  that 
point  was  by  swimming,  and  he  felt  certain  that  in  swim- 
ming such  a  stream,  in  the  darkness  of  such  a  night,  so 
much  confusion  must  ensue  as  would  make  his  own  escape 
of  easy  accomplishment.  The  foremost  horsemen  were  not 
long  in  reaching  the  banks  of  the  stream.     It  was  danger- 

20 


218  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

ous  for  more  than  two  to  enter  it  abreast,  and  when  the 
two  first  had  entered,  it  was  necessary  for  the  next  two  to 
wait  till  they  had  swam  some  distance,  for  fear  of  the  horses 
striking  each  other  in  the  darkness.  In  this  way  the  troop 
entered  the  river,  Tobias  Wilson  still  being  near  the  center 
of  the  command,  so  that  by  the  time  it  was  his  turn  to  at- 
tempt the  dangerous  passage,  the  foremost  swimmers  were 
already  upon  the  opposite  bank  cheering  their  comrades 
who  were  still  in  the  water.  As  they  descended  the  bank, 
the  guard  who  rode  by  Wilson's  side  took  hold  of  his 
bridle-rein,  saying,  as  he  did  so  :  "  Hold  fast  to  the  pommel 
of  your  saddle, — I  will  guide  your  horse." 

At  the  same  instant,  favored  by  the  darkness,  Wilson 
slipped  his  hands  from  the  handcuffs,  and,  unobserved, 
drew  the  long  knife  from  his  breast-pocket.  This  was 
firmly  clasped  in  his  left  hand,  while  in  his  right  he  grasped 
the  heavy  irons  which  he  had  patiently  worn  for  the  last 
four  hours.  They  had  swam  but  a  few  paces,  when  the 
keen  blade  was  buried  deep  in  the  side  of  his  guide,  who, 
instantly  tumbled  from  his  horse  into  the  river,  almost 
without  a  groan.  The  horse  snorted  furiously,  and,  swim- 
ming wildly  down  the  stream,  created  no  little  confusion 
among  the  troop,  who  could  not  see  or  understand  what 
was  going  on.  At  the  same  time,  Wilson,  rising  in  his 
stirrups,  hurled  the  handcuffs,  with  all  the  force  of  his  mus- 
cular arm,  in  the  direction  of  the  troopers  who  were  before 
him.  They  struck  some  one,  for  he  heard  first  a  dull  sound, 
and  then  a  noise,  such  as  would  have  been  made  by  a  body 
falling  into  the  water.  The  confusion  also  seemed  greatly 
to  increase,  and  there  was  a  mingled  uproar  of  questions, 
shouts,  and  curses.  Promptly  availing  himself  of  this  con- 
fusion, Wilson  rolled  from  his  horse  into  the  water,  and, 
putting  his  feet  against  the  animal,  pushed  himself  far  up 
the  stream,  at  right  angles  toward  the  southern  bank  of  the 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  219 

river,  upon  which  the  foremost  of  the  troop  had  drawn  up. 
Striking  boldly  out  in  the  darkness,  he  landed  safely  under 
a  high  bank,  and,  grasping  some  of  the  many  roots  which 
had  made  their  way  into  the  water,  he  listened  for  several 
minutes  to  the  remarks  of  the  troopers,  who  were  a  little 
below,  and  fearfully  near  him.  Some  proposed  immediate 
pursuit  of  the  fugitive ;  others  insisted  that  he  must  be 
drowned ;  while  others,  again,  were  indulging  in  conject- 
ures as  to  the  fate  of  their  two  comrades ;  the  general  opin- 
ion appearing  to  be  that  they  had  leaped  into  the  water 
to  recapture  the  prisoner,  when  they  became  aware  of  his 
escape.  By  this  time  the  whole  company  had  crossed  the 
river,  and  he  heard  the  voice  of  Captain  Sykes  saying  that 
he  would  go  no  farther  that  night,  and  ordering  the  men 
to  build  fires  at  once. 

Tobias  Wilson  now  felt  the  necessity  of  immediate  ac- 
tion. The  light  of  so  many  fires  would  certainly  be  cast 
up  the  river  to  the  spot  where  he  was  concealed,  and  ex- 
pose him  to  imminent  danger  of  recapture,  or  death  from 
the  carbines  of  the  soldiers.  Half  swimming,  half  pulling 
himself  along  by  the  roots  and  projections  of  the  branches, 
he  slowly  ascended  the  stream  until  he  reached  a  point 
where  he  could  easily  crawl  on  shore ;  then,  following  the 
river,  and  keeping  close  to  it  to  avoid  losing  his  way,  he 
moved  as  rapidly  from  the  dangerous  locality  as  the  dark- 
ness and  the  tangled  vines  and  undergrowth  would  permit. 
He  knew  that  there  was  a  grist  and  saw  mill  somewhere 
above  him,  whose  proprietor  was  a  strong  friend  of  the 
Union,  and  that  the  mill  was,  attended  at  night  by  two  of 
his  negroes,  who  were  not  likely  to  betray  him,  or  give  any 
information  that  could  be  useful  to  a  Confederate  soldier. 
But  he  had  no  idea  how  far  he  was  from  the  mill,  or  what 
dangers  he  would  have  to  encounter  before  arriving  there. 
He  knew  enough  of  the  country,  however,  to  be  sure  that, 


220  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

whatever  those  dangers  might  be,  they  would  be  greatly 
lessened  by  keeping  close  to  the  bank  of  the  river;  and  he 
determined  to  pursue  this  course,  notwithstanding  the  diffi- 
culty of  making  his  way  over  a  pathless  "bottom,"  (in  win- 
ter, a  swamp,)  which  was  obstructed  by  immense  vines  of 
bamboo,  grape,  and  muscadine,  and  occasional  thickets  of 
cane  and  running  greenbrier,  with  its  long,  sharp,  venom- 
ous thorns.  He  reflected,  too,  that  it  must  be  near  the 
dawn  of  day,  and  that  it  would  soon  be  light  enough  to 
enable  him,  in  a  great  measure,  to  avoid  these  annoyances. 
When  the  first  bright  streaks  of  the  coming  day  made  their 
appearance  in  the  east,  he  calculated  that  he  was  safe  from 
Captain  Sykes's  pursuit;  and,  sitting  down  upon  a  log,  re- 
solved to  wait  until  a  stronger  light  enabled  him  to  ascer- 
tain where  he  was.  In  the  mean  time  he  employed  himself 
pulling  out,  as  well  as  he  could,  the  long  thorns  which  had 
imbedded  themselves  in  various  parts  of  his  body,  and  from 
which  he  was  literally  bleeding  at  every  pore.  Waiting 
until  the  sun's  rays  began  to  steal  over  the  tops  of  the 
mountains,  he  looked  about  him  in  vain  for  some  familiar 
object.  Still  he  knew  that  his  course  must  be  up  the 
stream.  He  was  aware  that,  by  keeping  close  to  it,  the 
distance  he  had  to  travel  would  be  trebled  or  quadrupled ; 
but  there  was  safety  in  that  lonely  bottom,  while  the  open 
country  was  filled  with  enemies ;  and  so,  patiently  and  hope- 
fully, he  kept  on  his  pathless  and  toilsome  journey.  He 
was  young,  strong,  accustomed  to  encounter  fatigue  and 
difficulty,  and  pursued  his  way  with  unabated  speed,  where 
another  less  strong  and  determined  would  have  sunk  to  the 
ground  exhausted  and  overcome.  An  hour  brought  him 
within  sight  of  an  open  clearing  on  his  left,  and  a  little  far- 
ther on  he  crossed  a  country  road  leading  to  a  shallow  ford 
in  the  river.  Yet  there  was  nothing  that  he  recognized. 
He  examined  the  ford,  and  was  satisfied  that  he  had  never 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  221 

crossed  it,  or  seen  it  before.  The  river  bottom  on  the  south 
side  now  began  to  narrow  considerably,  and  he  could  see 
indications  of  settlements  stretching  far  to  the  northward. 
On  the  east  bank,  the  lofty  mountains  loomed  up  nearer 
and  nearer,  but  all  were  strange  to  him,  and  he  began  to 
think  that  Captain  Sykes's  company  had  ridden  much 
faster  the  previous  night  than  he  had  believed  at  the  time, 
and  had  carried  him  much  farther  down  the  river  than  he 
had  supposed — though  the  fact  was,  that  he  did  not  make 
due  allowances  for  the  slowness  of  his  own  progress,  and 
the  increased  distance  he  had  gone  over  by  following  the 
windings  of  the  stream.  In  another  hour  he  saw,  with 
delight,  a  mountain  of  peculiar  shape,  that  he  recognized 
instantly,  and  which  he  knew  was  within  about  a  mile  of  the 
mill  he  was  seeking,  and  some  ten  miles  from  the  late  resi- 
dence of  his  grandfather.  Encouraged  by  finding  himself 
at  last  in  a  country  of  which  he  had  some  knowledge,  he 
ventured  occasionally  to  leave  the  river  bank  and  make 
"short-cuts,"  which  greatly  accelerated  his  progress. 
About  eleven  o'clock  he  arrived  at  the  mill ;  but,  to  his 
great  disappointment,  he  discovered  around  it  such  a  num- 
ber of  ox  wagons  and  horses,  as  proved  that  it  was  crowded 
with  customers.  He  could  not  tell  whether  they  were  white 
men  or  negroes,  friends  or  enemies,  and,  not  daring  to  ap- 
proach it  while  in  this  state  of  uncertainty,  he  resolved  to 
cross  the  river  and  skirt  the  base  of  the  mountains  until  he 
reached  the  entrance  to  his  own  little  glen.  Following 
the  worm  fence,  behind  which  he  had  been  hidden  while 
making  his  observations,  he  went  straight  to  the  nearest 
point  on  the  river,  intending  to  swim  over.  There  he 
came  unexpectedly  upon  a  negro  man  who  was  sitting 
upon  the  bank,  underneath  a  large  sycamore-tree,  whiling 
away  his  time  while  waiting  for  his  load  of  corn  to  be 
ground,  catching  the  spotted  trout  and  large  black  perch 

20* 


222  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

with  which  Paint  Rock  abounds.  He  was  completely  hid- 
den by  the  tree,  and  Wilson  was  within  a  few  feet  of  him 
before  the  presence  of  either  was  discovered  by  the  other. 
This  was  an  opportune  meeting  that  Wilson  had  not  hoped 
for,  and  he  was  not  a  little  pleased  at  it,  for  the  pangs  of 
hunger  began  now  to  be  sensibly  felt,  and,  as  the  negroes 
were  almost  uniformly  the  friends  of  Union  citizens,  he  did 
not  doubt  that  he  would  be  able  to  procure,  through  his 
means,  the  food  he  so  much  needed.  He  therefore  ad- 
dressed the  negro  unhesitatingly  with  a  pleasant  "good 
morning." 

"Mornin',  massa,"  replied  the  negro.  And  observing 
Tobias's  torn  clothes,  and  the  clotted  blood  upon  his  face 
and  hands,  he  continued:  "You  looks  tired  and  hurt, 
massa;  anyting  you  want?"  Meaning,  is  there  anything 
you  are  in  need  of,  and  wish  to  have. 

"  Not  much,"  was  the  reply.  "  This  blood  comes  from 
brier  scratches.  But  I  am  very  hungry.  Can't  you  go  to 
the  mill  and  ask  Mr.  Moore  to  give  you  something  for  a 
friend  of  his  ?" 

"Why  you  no  go?"  asked  the  negro,  suspiciously. 

"Because,"  was  the  reply,  "I  don't  know  who  I  should 
meet  there ;  and  as  I  have  just  escaped  from  the  rebel 
cavalry,  I  might  find  men  at  the  mill  who  would  attempt 
to  retake  me.     You  see  I  am  in  no  condition  to  resist." 

The  negro  looked  at  him  intently,  and  then  said, 
eagerly : 

"You  would  be  cotch,  sir,  sartain,  sure.  Dare's  four  or 
five  ob  dem  secesh  at  de  mill  wid  guns,  and  they'd  kill  you, 
or  take  you  quick  enough  ef  you's  for  the  Yankees.  You 
jist  take  my  fishin'  pole,  and  Jake  '11  git  what  you  want. 
Don't  you  go  dar." 

So  saying,  the  negro  handed  his  pole  to  Wilson,  and 
turned  toward  the  mill. 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  223 

"  Tell  Mr.  Moore,"  said  Wilson,  as  he  walked  away, 
*'  that  my  name  is  Tobias  Wilson.  He  knows  me,  and  will 
gladly  help  me." 

"Nebber  mind  dat,"  responded  the  negro,  "I  got  plenty 
in  my  wagon,  and  maybe  I  can't  speak  to  Mr.  Moore  wid- 
out  dem  secesh  hearin'  me,  and  den  de  debil'd  be  to  play 
all  'round." 

Another,  and  apparently  knotty  question  seemed  to 
perplex  him,  for  he  stood  with  his  hat  in  one  hand,  slowly 
scratching  his  head  with  the  other,  as  if  trying  to  work 
out  some  difficult  problem;  at  last  he  said,  almost  in  a 
whisper : 

"Don't  stir,  sir,  if  I  stays  a  little  longer  than  you  think 
I  ought  to,  excepen  you  hear  me  singin',  or  makin'  some 
kind  of  a  fuss ;  den  you  drop  my  pole  on  de  bank  and  swim  . 
for  dat  thicket  on  todder  side  quick  as  you  kin  afore  dey 
sees  you." 

After  this  caution  he  seemed  to  think  nothing  more  was 
necessary  and  went  on  to  the  mill,  walking  slowly  and 
leisurely,  and  whistling  with  apparent  unconcern.  He  had 
been  gone  not  much  over  a  half  hour  before  he  returned, 
carrying  a  basket  on  his  arm,  well  filled  with  provisions. 

"I  seed  Mr.  Moore,  sir,  and  he  slipped  some  chicken, 
and  biscuit,  and  a  bottle  of  milk  in  my  basket.  I'se  got 
plenty  ob  bacon,  and  corn  bread,  and  cabbage,  and  taters  ; 
and  here  it  is.  Eat  as  much  as  you  wants."  He  placed 
the  basket  before  Wilson,  who  lost  no  time  in  beginning  to 
empty  it  of  its  contents.  In  one  of  the  pauses  of  mastica- 
tion, he  asked  if  Mr.  Moore  had  sent  him  any  message. 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  negro;  "he  say  you  must  git 
away  from  here  right  off — dat  you  must  keep  up  de  river 
on  todder  side.  He  say  dar's  a  cunnoo  'bout  a  mile  'bove 
here  whar  dare  is  tree  sycamores  togedder  on  de  bank, — 
dat  you  must  take  it,  and  paddle  up  de  river  two  or  tree 


224  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

miles,  when  de  danger  will  be  ober — den  turn  de  cunnoo 
loose,  and  it  will  float  down  to  de  mill." 

Wilson  perceived  at  a  glance  the  kindness  as  well  as  the 
soundness  of  this  advice ;  it  not  only  guarded  him  against 
any  probable  danger,  but  saved  him  the  fatigue  of  walking, 
from  which  Mr.  Moore  had  rightly  judged  he  must  be 
already  suflfering.  As  soon,  therefore,  as  his  meal  was 
concluded,  he  shook  the  negro  warmly  by  the  hand,  and 
offered  him  a  five  dollar  note,  which  the  black  refused 
to  take,  saying,  "  Xebber  mind,  sir,  you  can  help  me 
some  ob  dese  times,  and  den  well  be  eben.  I  don't  want 
no  pay  for  helping  a  man  who  is  fightin'  for  Presdent 
Linkura." 

Wilson,  however,  dropped  the  note  in  his  basket,  and, 
reinvigorated  by  rest  and  a  hearty  meal,  plunged  into  the 
river  and  swam  swiftly  to  the  opposite  side. 

That  evening,  as  Rogers  and  Miller,  who  was  now  able  to 
hobble  about  on  crutches,  were  sitting  in  the  porch  of  To- 
bias-Wilson's house,  they  saw  coming  up  the  road  toward 
them  a  ragged,  and,  apparently,  very  tired  man.  Even 
Thomas  Rogers  for  some  time  failed  to  recognize  in  the 
wayfarer  any  resemblance  to  his  friend.  He  had  ap- 
proached to  within  a  few  steps  of  the  door,  when  Rogers 
suddenly  sprang  from  his  chair,  and  grasping  him  by  the 
hand,  exclaimed  : 

"  Good  God  !     Toby,  what  is  the  matter  ?" 

"Enough,"  was  the  reply,  "and  bad  enough.  But  first 
let  me  wash  off  this  blood,  and  get  on  some  decent  clothes, 
and  I  will  tell  you  all." 

Rogers  could  scarcely  restrain  his  impatience  while  this 
was  being  done  ;  and,  as  soon  as  Wilson  came  back  to  the 
porch,  cleanly  dressed,  and  with  the  blood  and  dirt  washed 
from  his  person,  his  friend  eagerly  asked,  without  waiting 
for  him  to  be  seated  : 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  225 

"Where  have  you  been,  Toby,  and  what  on  earth  is  the 
matter  ?" 

Wilson  took  a  seat  by  his  side,  and  clearly  but  concisely 
related  the  violent  manner  of  his  own  arrest — the  search 
for  Rogers — the  fire  resulting  from  it,  and  the  destruction 
of  every  house  on  the  premises  of  Mr.  Rogers,  Sr.;  the 
conduct  of  the  soldiery,  and  finally  his  own  escape,  the 
manner  of  it,  and  the  sufferings  he  had  undergone  in  ac- 
complishing it. 

The  thunder-cloud  that  had  gathered  on  the  brow  of 
Rogers  at  the  beginning  of  the  story  slightly  cleared  away 
when  he  heard  that  one  trooper  was  certainly  killed,  and 
another  probably  drowned  in  the  river.  Still  there  was  a 
lurid  fire  in  his  eyes,  which,  from  early  boyhood,  had  be- 
tokened that  passions  of  the  darkest  and  deadliest  char- 
acter had  been  awakened  in  his  bosom.  At  the  conclusion 
of  the  narrative,  he  said  :  "  Captain  Joe  Sykes  is  running 
up  an  account  with  me  which  he  will  be  apt  to  find  more 
pleasant  in  the  making  than  in  the  settlement." 

I^othing  more  was  said  until  supper  time,  when  many 
questions,  embracing  all  the  particulars,  were  asked  and 
answered.    Then  Rogers  said  : 

"  You  are  badly  in  need  of  rest,  Toby,  and  must  go  to 
bed.  I  will  ride  over  to  Dr.  Griffin's  to-night,  and  see 
them  all,  (for  I  know  they  are  there,)  and  then  we  can  tell 
better  what  is  to  be  done." 

"I  will  go  with  you,"  said  Wilson.  "You  can  furnish 
me  a  horse,  I  suppose  ?" 

"Miller  can  certainly  lend  you  a  horse,"  was  the  answer; 
"but  you  do  not  leave  this  house  to-night,  if  I  can  help  it. 
You  can  do  me  no  good,  and  you  are  in  no  condition  to 
cross  that  mountain.  After  a  good  night's  rest,  you  will 
be  able  to  do  all  that  may  be  required  of  you." 

Remonstrances  were  in  vain.     Rogers  was  determined. 


226  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

and  Wilson  himself,  feeling  the  truth  of  much  that  his 
brother-in-law  said,  was  finally  compelled  to  acquiesce. 

In  less  than  an  hour  that  daring  and  adventurous  man 
was  ascending  the  rugged  sides  of  the  mountaio.  Upon 
arriving  at  Dr.  GriflBn's,  he  found  every  one  buried  in  pro- 
found repose.  Cautiously  awaking  the  colored  cook,  he 
asked  her  whether  she  could  rouse  his  father  without  dis- 
turbing the  remainder  of  the  family. 

"Yes,  sir,"  was  the  reply  ;  "his  room  is  in  de  end  dis 
way.  You  can  wake  him  yourself  by  jus'  tapping  the 
winder.     He's  mighty  easy  to  wake." 

"  It  is  better  for  you  to  do  it,"  he  said,  "to  prevent  the 
possibility  of  an  alarm.  Tell  him  his  son  is  here,  and 
will  come  in  as  soon  as  he  strikes  a  light." 

In  a  few  minutes  more,  father  and  son  were  locked  in 
each  other's  embrace.  After  the  first  warm  greetings  were 
over,  Thomas  said  :  "  Xow,  father,  get  back  to  your  bed 
and  I  will  take  a  seat  by  its  side.  You  have  nothing  to 
tell  me,  for  I  know  all  that  has  happened;  but  I  have 
some  good  news  for  you.  Toby  has  escaped,  and  is  now 
at  his  own  house.  Poor  fellow  !  he  wanted  to  come  with 
me,  but  he  was  so  much  bruised  and  worn  and  tired  that 
I  would  not  allow  it." 

"Thank  God!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Rogers;  "I  must  let 
his  mother  and  his  wife  know  the  good  tidings.  Wait 
here  until  I  come  back." 

"  Not  yet,"  replied  his  son.  "Don't  wake  them  yet.  I 
want  to  see  them  very  much  ;  but  first  I  must  have  a  long 
talk  with  you.  Have  you  formed  any  plans  for  the  fu- 
ture ?" 

"No,  we  have  all  been  too  busy  to-day  to  think  of  any- 
thing but  the  present.  But  for  Dr.  Griffin's  kindness,  I 
know  not  what  we  should  have  done.  As  it  is,  we  are 
very  comfortable.     He  has  a  large  house  and  no  family, 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  227 

and,  with  the  aid  of  our  own  furniture,  there  is  nothing 
left  for  us  to  wish,  though  we  cannot  help  feeling  that  it 
is  not  home." 

"  If  I  live,"  said  his  son,  "  he  shall  be  repaid  a  hundred- 
fold. But  now  to  other  matters.  You  cannot  stay  here. 
I  have  raised  a  company  of  Union  soldiers,  who  will  have 
their  final  meeting  at  Toby's  house  the  day  after  to-mor- 
row. After  that  I  shall  not  stay  in  this  neighborhood  any 
longer  than  is  necessary  to  hunt  up  Captain  Sykes's  gang. 
I  hope  to  leave  but  few  of  them  alive  ;  but  some  will  escape, 
of  course.  If  there  is  but  one,  he  will  try  to  revenge  on 
you  the  blows  received  from  me.  You  have  bad  neigh- 
bors enough  who  will  urge  him  on,  and  help  him  too,  if 
needful." 

We  omit  the  details  of  the  long  conversation  that  fol- 
lowed. It  was  finally  agreed  that  the  best  thing  would  be 
for  Mr.  Rogers  to  sell  his  stock  and  his  growing  crop  for 
the  highest  price  he  could  get,  and  remove  with  his  family 
to  Ohio,  where  he  had  a  number  of  relatives.  It  was  sug- 
gested by  Mr.  Rogers  that  he  could  there  rent  a  small 
farm  containing  land  enough  for  himself  and  Tobias  Wil- 
son to  cultivate,  and  that  all  he  needed  would  be  money 
enough  from  the  sale  of  his  property  to  take  them  there 
and  support  them  until  something  could  be  made  by  their 
own  labor. 

At  the  mention  of  Tobias  Wilson's  name,  his  son  shook 
his  head  negatively. 

"I  am  afraid  that  you  must  leave  Toby  out  of  your  cal- 
culations. He  will  not  go*;  at  least  not  now,  or  for  some 
time  to  come." 

"Did  he  say  so?"  asked  Mr.  Rogers. 

"No,"  was  the  answer,  "for  w^e  never  thought  of  this 
plan  ;  but  I  know  him  better  than  I  know  myself,  and, 
weak  and  exhausted  as  he  was,  I  could  read  in  his  eyes  a 


228  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

fixed  and  settled  purpose,  from  which  no  human  being  can 
turn  him." 

"I  think,"  said  Mr.  Rogers,  "that  Sophy  may  be  able 
to  persuade  him  to  go  with  us." 

"Not  she,"  was  the  prompt  reply.  "She  conquered 
once ;  but  you  saw  what  a  terrible  struggle  it  cost  them 
both.     The  next  triumph  will  be  his." 

"Well,"  said  the  old  man,  "it  may  be  so;  but  let  us 
hope  to  the  contrary.  It  will  grieve  both  Sophy  and  his 
mother  deeply  to  part  with  him.  When  he  comes  to  think 
of  this  he  may  yield ;  at  all  events,  we  must  try  to  take 
him." 

"There  is  no  harm  in  that,"  replied  his  son;  "but  I 
know  how  it  will  end.  Now,  father,  will  you  contrive  to 
let  Mrs.  Wilson  and  Sophy  know  that  I  am  here  ?  I  can- 
not linger  long,  and  I  wish,  at  least,  to  shake  them  by  the 
hand — though  I  cannot  do  much  more — before  I  go.  Day- 
light must  not  find  me  on  this  side  of  the  mountain,  and  it 
is  now  past  two  o'clock  in  the  morning." 

The  ladies  were  soon  awakened  and  brought  into  Mr. 
Rogers's  room.  Shaking  Mrs.  Wilson  warmly  by  the 
hand  and  imprinting  a  kiss  upon  his  sister's  cheek,  Thomas 
Rogers  communicated  to  them  the  glad  tidings  of  Tobias 
Wilson's  escape,  and  that  he  was  now  safely  in  his  own 
house,  though  considerably  bruised  and  greatly  exhausted 
by  what  he  had  undergone. 

"He  will  be  here  to-morrow  night,"  he  continued,  "by 
eleven  o'clock;  and  now  I  must  ride.  Give  my  warmest 
thanks  to  Dr.  Griffin.  I  will  not  disturb  him  to-night ; 
but  I  beg  you  to  say  to  him  that  he  shall  never  have  cause 
to  regret  what  he  has  done,  and  that  I  will  see  him  to- 
morrow night  and  thank  him  in  person.  He  need  not  sit 
up  ;  I  will  wake  him." 

Thomas  Rogers  was  mistaken  in  supposing  that  he  was 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  229 

to  get  away  so  easily.  Each  of  the  ladies  had  very  many 
questions  to  ask  him,  and  it  was  fully  a  half  hour  before 
the  door  closed  upon  him,  even  after  he  had  twice  bid- 
den them  good-by.  With  rapid  strides  he  moved  to 
where  his  horse  was  fastened,  fearing  that  he  was  too  late 
to  escape  observation,  and,  mounting  him  in  equal  haste, 
sped  upon  his  homeward  journey  more  like  a  guilty  fugi- 
tive than  one  who  had  a  right  to  travel  whither  he  listed. 

On  his  return  he  communicated  to  Wilson  the  result  of 
his  conversation  with  his  father.  When  he  had  concluded, 
Wilson  replied  : 

"  I  like  the  plan  well  enough ;  but  there  is  one  diffi- 
culty which  you  seem  to  have  overlooked.  Where  are 
they  to  get  the  money  which  will  be  needful  ?" 

"  From  the  sale  of  my  father's  crops  and  stock ;  they 
will  surely  bring  enough  for  that." 

"  Yes,  in  Confederate  scrip,  which  they  can  pass  while 
on  this  side  of  the  Tennessee  line,  but  nowhere  farther 
north." 

"True,"  said  Rogers,  dejectedly;  "I  did  not  think  of 
that.     We  must  devise  some  other  plan." 

Sergeant  Miller  had  been  an  attentive  listener  to  this 
conversation  ;  and  when  he  noticed  the  dissatisfied  ex- 
pression which  settled  upon  the  features  of  Rogers  at  the 
apparently  insurmountable  objection  suggested  by  Wilson, 
he  said  quietly : 

"You  need  not  change  your  plans  on  that  account,  cap- 
tain, for  I  have  more  than  double  the  amount  of  money 
they  will  need,  and  I  had  much  rather  lend  it  to  your 
father  than  to  be  at  the  trouble  of  taking  care  of  it.  I 
won't  have  any  use  for  it  until  the  war  is  over." 

Rogers's  face  instantly  brightened ;  but  a  half  frown 
gathered  on  the  brow  of  Wilson,  who  had  not  forgotten 

21 


230  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

the  manner  in  which  the  money  was  obtained,  and  whose 
dislike  of  the  sergeant  was  by  no  means  removed.  It  was 
true  that  the  rightful  owner  could  never  recover  his  prop- 
erty, nor  even  be  identified ;  but  still  if  it  had  been  left  to 
him  he  would  have  rejected  the  proffered  loan.  He  had 
no  time,  however,  to  interpose  an  objection  before  his 
friend  replied,  with  so  much  satisfaction  that  he  knew  it 
would  be  useless  to  oppose  him  : 

"Thank  you,  sergeant;  you  have  relieved  me  from  a 
great  embarrassment.  My  father  shall  give  you  a  deed 
of  trust  on  his  land  so  that  your  debt  will  always  be 
secure." 

"  I  want  no  security,  sir,"  was  the  answer.  "After  what 
you  have  done  for  me,  you  have  a  right  to  all  I've  got  and 
more  besides.     I  wish  it  was  ten  times  as  much." 

"But,  sergeant,"  replied  Kogers,  "I  cannot  take  pay  in 
that  way,  and  my  father  will  not  accept  the  money  unless 
he  is  allowed  to  give  ample  security  for  its  repayment." 

"As  you  please,  sir,"  he  said;   "have  it  your  own  way." 

"  Well,  then,  that  is  settled.  Now,  Toby,"  he  continued, 
"I  must  go  to  bed,  for  I  mean  to  ride  with  you  to-night, 
and  will  need  all  the  sleep  I  can  get  beforehand." 

Left  alone  with  the  sergeant,  Tobias  Wilson  entered  into 
a  conversation  with  him,  which  left  a  far  better  impression 
upon  his  mind  than  anything  he  had  yet  heard  or  seen  of 
that  individual.  By  nightfall  they  might  almost  be  said 
to  have  become  friends.  Such  changes  are  not  unfrequent 
in  every-day  life,  and  especially  in  revolutionary  times, 
where  so  many  opportunities  present  themselves  of  assist- 
ing or  injuring  each  other.  As  they  rode  up  the  mount- 
ain that  night  on  their  way  to  Dr.  Griffin's  house,  Wilson 
frankly  confessed  the  change  in  his  feelings. 

"I  told  you  so,"  answered  Rogers,  "and  I  tell  you  now 
that  the  more  you  see  of  him  the  better  you  will  like  him." 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  231 

"I  hope  so,"  was  the  reply,  "and  I  begin  to  believe  so. 
We  will  soon  be  comrades  in  arms,  and  it  shall  not  be  my 
fault  if  we  are  not  also  friends." 

It  was  the  first  time  Wilson  had  made  any  allusion  to 
his  future  purposes.  Rogers  noticed  it,  but  made  no  com- 
ment. It  was  a  simple  confirmation  of  what  he  had  pre- 
dicted to  his  father  the  previous  night.  Their  toilsome 
journey  was  now  continued  in  silence.  At  Dr.  Griffin's 
they  found  the  doctor  himself  and  all  the  white  members 
of  the  family  up  and  waiting  for  them.  We  will  not  at- 
tempt to  describe  the  joyous  meeting  between  Tobias  Wil- 
son, his  mother,  and  his  wife.  Thomas  Rogers  turned 
away  from  the  fond  scene,  and,  taking  his  father  a  little  to 
one  side,  placed  in  his  hands  a  package  of  notes. 

"Here  are  enough  greenbacks," he  said,  "to  support  you 
for  two  years  if  necessary.  You  need  not  sell  anything  at  a 
sacrifice,  but  leave  all  with  Dr.  Griffin,  to  be  disposed  of  to 
the  best  advantage.  For  this  money  you  have  only  to 
give  a  deed  of  trust  upon  your  land  to  James  Miller,  from 
whom  I  borrowed  it.  You  can  have  the  deed  written, 
and  send  it  to  me  by  Dr.  Griffin  when  he  comes  over  the 
day  after  to-morrow." 

Mr.  Rogers  accepted  the  money,  and  interrupting  the 
conversation  between  the  other  members  of  the  party,  he 
informed  them  of  the  resolution  he  had  taken.  No  par- 
ticular objection  was  made  by  any  of  the  party,  and  Mr. 
Rogers,  turning  to  Wilson,  said,  in  a  tone  of  inquiry : 

"You  go  with  us,  Tobias,  of  course?" 

"No,  sir,"  was  the  prompt  reply.  "I  shall  stay  with 
Thomas.  From  this  time  forth  my  life  is  devoted  to  my 
country.  I  am  sure  you  would  not  have  me  skulk  from 
the  field  when  others  are  fighting  for  all  I  hold  dear." 

Mr.  Rogers  had  been  partially  prepared  for  this  by  his 
son,  but  it  was  a  complete  surprise  to  Dr.  Griffin  and  the 


232  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

ladies,  and  Wilson  was  at  once  assailed  by  appeals  to  his 
affection,  and  all  the  feminine  arguments  usually  employed 
on  such  occasions ;  to  these  were  added  some  suggestions 
of  a  graver  character  from  Mr.  Rogers  and  Dr.  Griffin. 

The  replies  of  Wilson  were  very  brief,  but  determined 
and  decided.  His  wife  approached  him,  and,  putting  her 
arms  around  his  neck,  softly  whispered : 

"You  will  not  leave  me,  Toby?" 

''I  must,"  was  the  reply.  "I  have  been  inactive  too 
long  already.  I  needed  some  such  lesson  as  Captain  Sykes 
has  given  me  to  rouse  me  to  a  sense  of  duty  to  my  country. 
It  will  wring  my  heart  to  part  from  you,  sweet  wife,  but 
your  own  judgment  must  tell  you  that  I  ought  to  go." 

Similar  answers  were  made  to  all  the  entreaties  which 
were  addressed  to  him.  These  were  many  and  tearful ;  and 
were  only  terminated  by  Thomas  Rogers,  who  remarked 
abruptly : 

"  Come,  Toby,  we  must  ride.  We  have  little  more  than 
time  to  reach  the  mountain  by  daybreak."  Then,  taking 
his  sister  by  the  hand,  he  said  kindly :  "  It  is  vain  to  urge 
him,  Sophy,  and  your  parting  will  be  painful  enough  to 
him  without  your  making  it  more  so  by  idle  tears  and  vain 
entreaties.  Do  not  annoy  him  with  them.  Let  him  re- 
main (for  remain  he  will)  without  inflicting  upon  him  need- 
less torture.  Now  go  and  tell  him  good-by  until  you  are 
ready  to  leave  this  country.  We  will  come  over  then  and 
guard  you  safely  to  Stevenson.  You  ought  to  remember 
that  he  is  the  best  judge  in  this  matter." 

Thomas  Rofrers  then  shook  hands  with  the  remainder 
of  the  party,  and  bade  them  good  night.  The  brave  girl, 
appreciating  the  soundness  of  the  advice  she  had  received, 
folded  her  husband  in  a  loving  embrace,  bade  him  act  as 
his  own  judgment  dictated,  and  only  asked  him  to  reflect 
well  before  his  final  decision  was  made.     That  decision 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  233 

was  already  made,  bat  he  did  not  tell  her  so.  He  only 
drew  her  to  his  breast,  and,  imprinting  kiss  after  kiss  upon 
her  lips  and  cheeks,  murmured,  "God  bless  you,  my  dear 
wife."  Then,  bidding  adieu  to  his  mother  and  friends,  he 
left  the  room  with  tears  in  his  manly  eyes,  and  followed 
his  friend  to  where  their  horses  were  tied. 

"  You  did  not  tell  me,  Toby,  but  I  knew  that  you  had 
made  up  your  mind  to  become  a  soldier.  I  think  you  are 
right,  but  if  I  had  thought  otherwise  I  should  not  have 
said  a  word  to  dissuade  you,  for  I  could  see  plainly  enough 
in  your  face  how  vain  and  idle  it  would  be  to  attempt  to 
change  your  purpose.  You  need  not  join  my  troop  yet. 
You  can  remain  with  us  as  a  volunteer  until  you  see  how 
you  like  us.  If  you  prefer  it,  you  can  then  join  some  other 
company." 

Tobias  Wilson  briefly  assented  to  thi»  arrangement,  re- 
marking, however,  that  it  was  a  useless  precaution,  as  he 
was  satisfied  that  he  should  prefer  to  remain  with  his 
brother-in-law.  When  they  arrived  at  home  they  found 
Sergeant  Miller  busily  engaged  in  sewing  up  the  padding 
of  his  saddle  which  he  had  ripped  open  to  extract  the 
money  that  he  had  loaned  to  Mr.  Rogers. 

"There  is  a  good  deal  more  here,"  he  said,  "and  I  am 
glad  to  find  some  one  I  can  trust  with  a  knowledge  of  it. 
If  anything  happens  to  me  it  will  then  be  safe,  and  you 
will  know  what  to  do  with  it." 

Both  assured  him  that  if  they  survived  him  it  should  be 
safely  delivered  to  his  father.  Then,  leaving  him  to  his 
work,  they  proceeded  to  the  cave  to  bring  out  the  arms 
and  ammunition  which  were  to  be  that  day  distributed  to 
such  members  of  his  company  as  were  unprovided  with 
them. 

About  eleven  o'clock  the  recruits  began  to  come  in  by 

21* 


234  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

twos  and  threes,  some  of  them  completely  armed,  while  others 
were  without  any  offensive  weapon.  Each  one  was  dressed 
in  the  clothes  usually  worn  by  him,  and,  altogether,  they 
presented  more  the  appearance  of  men  who  had  gathered 
together  for  the  purpose  of  taking  part  in  one  of  the  ordi- 
nary barbecues  and  shooting-matches  of  the  Southwest, 
than  of  a  military  association.  After  allowing  what  he 
deemed  sufficient  time  for  all  to  arrive,  Rogers  called  the 
roll,  and,  ascertaining  that  all  were  present  who  had  prom- 
ised to  be  there,  he  organized  a  kind  of  public  meeting,  in 
which  it  was  resolved  that  they  would  that  day  elect  only 
a  captain  and  first-lieutenant,  leaving  the  other  ofifices  to 
be  filled  after  they  had  served  together  awhile,  and  could 
better  appreciate  each  other's  capacity.  The  vote  for 
captain  was  unanimous  for  Thomas  Rogers,  and  nearly  so 
for  Miller  as  lieutenant.  The  arms  were  then  distributed, 
and  a  rude  camp,  without  tents,  formed  in  the  little  valley, 
permission  being  given  to  all  those  whose  preparations 
were  not  completed  to  return  to  their  homes  and  remain 
for  two  days.  Provisions  had  been  prepared  for  their 
temporary  sojourn  in  the  valley,  the  greater  part,  indeed, 
being  the  free  gift  of  those  recruits  who  lived  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, or  of  their  immediate  friends  and  relations.  A 
temporary  commissary  was  appointed,  who  proceeded, 
after  a  fashion,  to  distribute  rations  and  forage  among  the 
troopers.  The  experience  of  Lieutenant  Miller  was  now 
of  great  advantage  to  Thomas  Rogers.  Hobbling  to  the 
camp  upon  his  crutches,  he  gave,  in  person,  many  neces- 
sary directions  to  the  new  recruits,  and  calling  the  old 
soldiers  about  him,  he  instructed  them  to  communicate  all 
necessary  knowledge,  and  to  aid  in  every  way  their  inex- 
perienced associates. 

"  We  didn't  know  much  ourselves,  boys,"  he  said,  "  when 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  235 

we  first  began,  and  sufi'ered  enough  for  the  want  of  some 
one  to  tell  us.  I  want  to  make  soldiers  of  these  boys  as 
soon  as  possible,  and  you  must  help  me  all  you  can." 
These  orders  were  cheerfully  assented  to,  and  perhaps  there 
never  was  a  company,  composed  of  such  heterogeneous 
materials,  who  laid  down  at  night  upon  the  bare  earth  in 
better  humor  with  themselves,  their  comrades,  and  their 
officers,  than  those  who  composed  the  command  of  Captain 
Thomas  Rogers. 

On  the  next  day,  when  Dr.  Griffin  came  over  upon  pre- 
tense of  seeing  his  patient,  but  really  to  confer  with  Tho- 
mas Rogers,  he  was  surprised  to  find  the  little  valley  nearly 
filled  with  armed  men,  a  large  portion  of  whom  were 
drilling  in  squads  upon  every  available  piece  of  ground, 
including  the  land  from  which  the  wheat  and  oats  had  been 
cut.  His  surprise  was  not  much  diminished  when  informed 
of  the  cause  which  had  brought  these  men  together.  How- 
ever, he  saw  that  it  was  beyond  remedy,  even  if  he  had  de- 
sired to  remedy  it,  which  he  probably  did  not.  Waving, 
therefore,  any  comment  upon  the  scene  before  his  eyes,  he 
called  Thomas  Rogers  and  Tobias  Wilson  into  the  house, 
gave  them  the  deed  of  trust  for  Miller,  and  informed  them 
that  Mr.  Rogers  had  decided  to  start  upon  his  journey 
northward  on  the  following  Wednesday  morning. 

"  That  is  as  it  should  be,"  answered  Rogers.  "  I  like 
quick  work.  Tell  him  that  Toby  and  I  will  be  there  by 
breakfast  time,  with  fifty  picked  men,  to  see  them  safe  into 
the  Union  lines." 

With  this  message,  and  many  a  loving  one  from  Tobias 
Wilson,  the  doctor  returned ;  while  Rogers  again  sought 
the  drill-ground,  and  placed  himself  in  charge  of  the  sol- 
dier whom  Miller  had  selected  as  his  instructor.  He  had 
somewhere  obtained  an  old  copy  of  cavalry  tactics,  which 


236  ,   TOBIAS    WILSON. 

he  studied  attentively,  but  he  was  not  ashamed  at  the  same 
time  to  be  practically  taught  by  one  of  his  own  troopers. 
He  had  taken  up  his  abode  among  the  men,  took  his  meals 
with  them,  and  slept  on  the  ground,  as  they  did,  thus 
proving  to  them,  at  the  very  beginning,  that  he  was  not 
disposed  to  ask  them  to  undergo  anything  which  he  was 
not  willing  to  share. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

On  the  evening  succeeding  the  events  related  in  the  last 
chapter,  in  a  lonely  spot  not  far  from  the  western  border  of 
Jackson  County,  Alabama,  a  young  girl,  and  an  officer  in 
the  uniform  of  the  Confederate  army,  might -have  been 
seen  in  earnest  conference.     About  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off 
there  was  a  dwelling-house,  which  was,  doubtless,  the  girl's 
.residence.     To  the  right  of  them  there  was  a  thick  growth 
of  trees  and  bushes,  extending  down  a  slight  declivity  to  a 
considerable  creek.    Through  the  wood  there  was  a  narrow 
path  which  led  to  a  spring,  whose  living  waters  gushed 
from  a  rocky  bluff  and  emptied  themselves  into  the  creek 
below.     To  their  left  was  a  little  cornfield,  of  some  ten  or 
fifteen  acres,  and  along  its  side  ran  a  neighborhood  road, 
which,  however,  was  so  little  used  that  the  solitude  of  the 
place  was  seldom  broken  by  the  presence  of  man.     The 
girl  was  seated  on  a  projecting  rail  of  the  fence ;  by  lean- 
ing his  arm  on  another  above  her  head,  the  young  officer 
was  enabled  to  bend  over  her  as  he  spoke,  and  intently 
watch  her  changing  features.    She  did  not  seem  to  be  alto- 
gether pleased,  and  was  apparently  uncertain  whether  or 
not  to  believe  the  words  he  had  spoken.     Still,  she  Ustened, 
and  did  not  contradict  him.     At  length  she  said  : 

"I  am  not  satisfied,  and  will  not  be  till  you  consent  to 
see  my  mother.  Why  can't  you  come  to  the  house  as  you 
once  did?  Indeed,  you  must  come!''  Then,  suddenly 
bending  her  head  toward  the  ground  and  listening  intently, 

(  237  ) 


238  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

she  added  quickly :  "  Yon  must  leave  bere  at  once ;  J  hear 
a  horse's  foot  coming  up  the  ridge." 

"I  hear  nothing,"  said  the  oflBcer,  after  a  moment's  lis- 
tening.    "You  must  be  mistaken." 

"But  I  do,  and  I  am  not  mistaken,"  she  replied.  "I 
have  listened  at  this  spot  for  the  sound  of  your  horse's 
feet,  in  other  days,  too  often  to  be  deceived.  You  must 
away  at  once." 

"Well,  then,"  replied  the  officer,  "give  me  a  parting  kiss 
and  I  will  be  off,  since  you  think  it  dangerous  to  stay." 

She  submitted  to  his  embraces,  but  did  not  return  them ; 
and  when  he  had  mounted  his  horse,  which  had  been  tied 
a  short  distance  in  the  wood,  she  again  composedly  seated 
herself  on  the  projecting  rail  of  the  fence.  But  a  few 
minutes  passed  when  an  armed  man  rode  up  to  where  she 
was  sitting,  and  greeted  her  with  what  he  intended  to  be  a 
careless  "good  evening."  She  returned  it  coldly  enough, 
and  then  asked : 

"Which  way  are  you  going,  Mr.  Franklin  ?" 

"That  is  a  question,  Miss  Sarah,"  he  replied,  "which  it 
is  not  prudent  to  answer  in  times  like  these  unless  we  hap- 
pen to  know  what  maybe  the  particular  object  of  the  ques- 
tioner." 

"  Well,  then,"  she  said  pettishly,  "keep  it  to  yourself." 

"  That's  exactly  what  I  intend  to  do,"  he  said;  "but  I 
wish  I  had  found  you  in  a  better  humor." 

"  I  don't  know  why  it  should  make  any  difference  to  you, 
Mr.  Franklin,  whether  I  am  in  a  good  or  a  bad  humor. 
I  told  you  before  that  we  never  could  be  anything  to  each 
other." 

"Still,"  he  replied,  "there  is  no  reason  why  we  should 
be  enemies  because  we  cannot  be  lovers." 

The  restless  eye  of  the  soldier  had  been  in  the  mean 
time  roving  over  every  object  about  them.     He  had  ob- 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  239 

served  the  print  of  a  man's  foot  in  the  dust  of  the  road  ; 
he  looked  down  the  unfrequented  pathway,  bnt  could  see 
no  trace  of  man  or  horse  in  that  direction.  He  therefore 
concluded  that  whoever  had  made  the  track  he  had  seen, 
had  gone  toward  the  spring ;  and  having  no  idea  that  he 
could  extract  any  information  from  the  girl,  he  bade  her 
good-by,  and  turned  his  horse's  head  in  that  direction. 
Passing  near  the  place  where  the  officer's  horse  had  been 
fastened,  he  did  not  fail  to  notice  the  trampled  ground  and 
other  marks  the  animal  had  left. 

"  Humph  !"  he  muttered.  "  I  have  broke  in  on  a  private 
meeting,  and  that's  what  made  her  so  crusty;  but  she 
needn't  have  been,  for  he  has  been  here  long  enough,  I 
should  say,  from  these  signs,  to  satisfy  any  girl  who  is  at 
all  reasonable." 

Pursuing  his  way  toward  the  spring,  he  perceived  that 
the  horseman  had  not  stopped  to  taste  its  crystal  waters, 
but  had  ridden  directly  across  the  creek.    Franklin  having 
last  heard  of  Captain  Sykes  on  the  Guntersville  road,  and 
wishing  to  learn  if  he  had  changed  his  course,  crossed  the 
creek  without  hesitation,  and  followed  the  tracks  of  the 
horse,  along  a  pathway  leading  through  an  open  space, 
which   had   once   been  a  cultivated   field,  but  was   now 
"turned  out  to  rest."     At  right  angles  to  the  path  there 
was  an  immense  "bottom,"  densely  covered  with  forest 
trees.     Along  its  outer  edge  there  ran  the  neighborhood 
road,  from  which  Franklin  had  diverged,  and  which,  mak- 
ing a  large  circuit  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  a  better 
crossing-place  over  the  creek,  around  Mrs.  Austin's  in- 
closure,  again  resumed  its  original  course  when  the  obstruc- 
tion of  the  creek  was  passed.     By  crossing  at  the  deeper 
and  more  difficult  ford  near  the  spring,  a  considerable 
angle  was  cut  off,  and  Franklin  supposed  that  the  horse- 
man he  was  pursuing  had  taken  this  route  on  that  account. 


240  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

When  be  neared  the  wood  we  have  mentioned,  he  perceived 
that  the  horseman  had  ridden  straight  across  the  road  and 
entered  the  forest.  Dismounting  to  look  for  the  tracks  he 
had  been  following,  he  observed  the  indentations  of  many 
other  horses'  feet,  that  had  been  apparently  going  and 
coming  in  that  direction  for  several  days  past. 

"Ah  !"  he  muttered.  "  It  needs  no  book  to  tell  the  mean- 
ing of  this.  It's  Captain  Joe  Sykes's  band,  and  they're 
lurking  about  Mulford's,  in  the  hollow  of  the  mountain  be- 
yond the  swamp.  It  was  him  that  I  ran  away  from  that 
nice  little  meeting  over  yonder.  But  this  is  no  place  for 
me.  He  might  be  coming  back  this  way  with  more  men 
than  I  care  to  meet.  It  would  do  me  a  power  of  good  to 
git  him  off  by  himself,  but  I  ain't  ready  for  a  general  scrim- 
mage with  his  whole  company." 

Turning  his  horse  again  toward  the  spring,  he  put  him 
to  a  much  faster  pace  than  he  had  yet  been  traveling. 
Upon  reaching  the  creek,  he  did  not  cross  it,  but  directed 
his  course  up  the  stream,  inwardly  saying; 

"That  girl's  watching  me;  and  she  said  enough  just 
now  to  show  me  that  she  would  like  to  see  me  knocked  in 
the  head,  or  bored  through  with  a  half  a  dozen  bullets,  or 
chopped  into  mince-meat,  or  put  out  of  the  way  in  any  other 
fashion.  If  Captain  Sykes  comes  back  to-night,  she'll  tell 
him  all  she  sees ;  but  I  am  a  little  too  old  to  be  caught 
that  way.  Captain  Sykes  and  me  will  have  a  meeting  be- 
fore long,  but  I  shan't  let  him  choose  the  time  and  place 
and  the  seconds." 

Hiding  steadily  up  the  creek  for  more  than  half  a  mile 
through  the  open  field,  where  he  was  plainly  visible  to  any 
one  on  the  look-out,  be  entered  tbe  wood  beyond  it  in  a 
southeasterly  direction ;  but,  as  soon  as  he  was  satisfied 
that  he  was  completely  hidden  by  the  trees,  he  turned  his 
horse's  bead  due  north,  crossed  the  creek  at  a  rough  and 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  241 

rocky  place,  where  there  was  no  ford,  changed  his  course 
to  the  northwest,  and  rode  rapidly  through  an  open  wood 
some  four  or  five  miles.  He  was  familiar  with  every  foot 
of  the  country,  and,  carefully  avoiding  all  houses  and  set- 
tlements, frequently  changing  his  course  for  this  purpose, 
he  arrived  before  sunset  at  a  little  spring,  close  by  a  field 
of  oats,  which  had  been  recently  cut  and  was  standing  in 
shocks  in  the  field.  Appropriating  one  of  these  shocks 
without  scruple,  and  relieving  his  horse's  mouth  from  the 
bit,  he  shook  the  provender  down  before  him ;  then  seating 
himself  by  the  spring,  he  drew  some  cold  provisions  from 
his  haversack,  and  leisurely  proceeded  to  satisfy  his  hunger. 
When  his  own  meal  was  finished,  he  leaned  back  upon  his 
elbows,  and  watched  his  horse's  feeding  with  real  interest. 

"  Take  your  time,  old  boy,"  he  said,  as  if  the  animal  un- 
derstood him;  "you've  got  a  good  hour  to  go  on,  for  I 
shan't  budge  from  here  until  after  dark.  It  mightn't  be 
wholesome." 

It  was  past  twelve  o'clock  at  night,  when  a  sentry  before 
Kogers's  encampment  sharply  challenged  a  horseman  who 
was  approaching  his  post.  John  Franklin — for  it  was  he 
— did  not  have  the  countersign,  and  was  consequently  de- 
tained until  the  officer  of  the  guard  came  to  conduct  him 
within  the  lines.  Inquiring  whether  Captain  Kogers  was 
asleep,  he  was  informed  that  he  was. 

"I'll  thank  you,  then,  to  wake  him,"  answered  Franklin, 
"for  I  have  news  to  tell  him  he  will  be  glad  to  hear;  and 
in  the  mean  time  I'll  be  obliged  to  you  if  you'll  let  me  know 
where  I  can  get  something  to  feed  my  horse."  Having 
received  that  important  information,  he  lost  no  time  in 
discharging  what  he  regarded  as  the  first  duty  of  a  cavalry- 
man, viz.,  to  attend  to  the  wants  of  the  animal  he  rode. 
By  that  time,  the  striking  of  a  light  on  another  part  of  the 
ground  informed  him  that  the  captain  was  awake,  and  ready 

22 


242  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

to  receive  him.  Walking  straight  to  the  place,  he  saluted 
his  ofiBcer  respectfully,  and  awaited  his  questioning  with 
the  quiet,  impassive  air  of  an  old  and  experienced  scout. 

"Sit  down,  Franklin,''  said  the  captain,  throwing  a  few 
additional  pieces  of  split  wood  upon  the  fire  ;  "I  am  told 
you  have  news  for  me." 

"Yes,  sir,"  was  the  answer  of  Franklin,  as  he  seated  him- 
self upon  the  ground,  in  compliance  with  the  invitation. 
He  then  related  to  his  captain,  without  further  questioning, 
all  with  which  the  reader  is  acquainted  of  his  meeting  with 
Sarah  Austin,  and  tracking  the  unseen  horseman  to  the 
deep  forest  swamp  he  had  entered, — accompanying  his 
narrative  with  many  shrewd  observations,  and  giving  an 
account  of  other  facts  which  his  keen  eye  had  not  failed  to 
observe,  and  that  would  have  been  passed  unnoticed  by  an 
ordinary  traveler,  or,  if  noticed,  would  have  been  deemed 
wholly  unimportant. 

"  He  went  straight,  sir,  from  the  river,  where  Mr.  Wilson 
escaped,  to  Mulford's,  with  his  gang.  He's  no  notion  of 
leaving  the  county ;  if  he  had,  he'd  have  gone  down  Paint 
Kock,  and  crossed  the  Tennessee  at  Fort  Deposit.  He's 
got  friends  that  way,  and  such  as  ain't  his  friends  would 
be  afraid  to  cheep.  But,  instid  of  that,  he's  gone  off  to  a 
hidin'-place  to  the  northwest — partly,  I  believe,  because  it 
was  convenient  to  that  foolish  girl,  and  partly  because  he's 
got  some  divilment  in  his  head  that  he  ain't  yet  ready  to 
undertake.  He'll  stay  where  he  is,  I  think,  for  a  week  to 
come.  There's  plenty  of  forage  in  that  neighborhood,  and 
plenty  of  folks  willin'  to  give  it  to  him  ;  and,  besides,  it's 
nigh  on  to  six  miles  from  any  public  road ;  so  he  thinks 
he's  in  no  danger  of  being  disturbed." 

Thomas  Rogers  pondered  upon  this  information  some 
time  before  he  replied  : 

"I  think  you  are  right,  Franklin;  but  we  must  try  and 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  243 

get  something  more  positive.  You  are  too  well  known  in 
that  neighborhood  to  risk  yourself  there  more  frequently 
than  is  absolutely  necessary;  besides,  I  have  another  duty 
for  you,  if  you  are  not  too  much  tired,  in  the  morning.  Is 
there  not  some  one  of  your  old  companions  who  is  ac- 
quainted with  the  country,  and  who  is  not  so  well  known 
personally  as  you  are,  whom  I  can  send  to  follow  up  your 
observations,  and  learn  exactly  where  he  is,  and  what  he  is 
doing?" 

"  There's  more  than  a  half  a  dozen  of  them,  sir,"  was  the 
reply.  "The  only  trouble  is  to  choose  among  them,  one's 
so  near  as  good  as  the  other." 

"  It  is  better  to  have  two  than  one,"  said  Rogers ;  "and 
more  than  two  is  unnecessary.  I  shall  trust  to  you  to 
select  them,  and  send  them  to  me  early  in  the  morning.  I 
wish  you  also  to  choose  a  companion  for  yourself,  to  make 
a  scout  along  the  Stevenson  road." 

"Yes,  sir;  it  shall  be  done  by  sun  up." 

"And  now,  good  night,"  said  the  captain.  "You  will 
have  no  difficulty  in  finding  a  place  to  sleep  here." 

"I  always  sleep,  sir,  as  near  my  horse  as  I  can."  Then, 
rising  and  bowing  to  his  captain  with  unfeigned  respect, 
he  walked  off,  and  unfastening  a  blanket  from  his  saddle, 
spread  it  upon  the  ground,  and  in  two  minutes  was  buried 
in  profound  repose. 

Early  the  next  morning  the  scouts  were  dispatched  upon 
their-  several  errands,  and  the  monotonous  drill  was  re- 
sumed. On  Tuesday  night,  the  two  scouts  sent  to  look 
after  Captain  Sykes's  business  and  whereabouts  had  not 
returned;  but  the  report  of  those  who  had  been  sent  in 
the  direction  of  Stevenson  was  so  favorable,  that  Rogers 
determined  to  take  with  him  only  twenty  men,  instead  of 
fifty,  as  he  had  at  first  proposed.  This  reduction  was 
caused  by  his  desire  to  conceal,  as  far  as  possible,  the 


244  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

number  of  his  men.  As  yet,  it  was  not  even  suspected 
that  any  organization  of  Union  men  existed  in  the  county ; 
but  his  appearance  in  the  thickly  settled  neighborhood 
where  Dr.  Griffin  resided,  at  the  head  of  an  armed  party, 
would  be  sure  to  furnish  occasion  for  much  gossip  and 
many  wild  conjectures.  Before  nightfall  the  extraordinary 
circumstance  would  be  known  far  and  near,  and  messengers 
would  certainly  be  dispatched  to  notify  Captain  Sykes,  and 
any  other  Confederate  band  which  might  be  concealed  in 
the  vicinity,  waiting  for  the  Union  cavalry,  then  at  Steven- 
son, to  cross  the  Tennessee  Kiver  :  thus  leaving  the  citi- 
zens, as  they  supposed,  entirely  at  their  mercy,  both  in  the 
enforcement  of  the  conscript  law  and  the  tyrannical  im- 
pressment, in  the  name  of  the  Confederate  government,  of 
whatever  they  saw  fit  to  take.  Thomas  Rogers  had  so 
quietly  and  so  judiciously  managed  his  recruiting  opera- 
tions, that  no  rumor  had  got  abroad  of  the  existence  of  a 
Union  force  anywhere  in  the  country,  except  that  which  was 
now  encamped  at  Stevenson.  To  keep  up  this  delusion,  and 
to  leave  secession  citizens  and  secession  soldiers  under  the 
impression  that  a  time  was  near  at  hand  when  there  would 
be  no  one  to  restrain  or  punish  any  license  in  which  they 
saw  fit  to  indulge,  Thomas  Rogers  judged  it  best  to  take 
with  him  a  number  of  men  so  small  as  not  to  create  alarm, 
or  induce  a  belief  that  they  would  remain  behind  when 
General  Stanley  had  taken  up  his  march  to  assist  in  the 
capture  of  Chattanooga,  which,  it  was  now  apparent,  would 
soon  be  attacked  by  all  the  troops  under  General  Rose- 
crans's  command. 

The  selection  of  the  men  had  been  left  to  Lieutenant 
Miller,  Captain  Rogers  not  being  yet  sufficiently  acquainted 
with  his  troopers,  their  characters,  and  qualifications,  to  de- 
cide upon  the  service  for  which  they  were  best  fitted.  The 
men  selected  were  almost  all  of  them  old  soldiers,  who  knew 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  245 

the  value  of  watchfulness  and  secrecy,  and  who  had  already 
learned  to  respect  their  commander  too  much  to  dream  of 
the  slightest  disobedience  to  his  orders.  There  are  some 
men  who  attract  the  regards  of  the  soldier  so  suddenly  and 
strongly,  that  it  seems  like  magic ;  and  Thomas  Rogers 
was  one  of  these.  They  knew  that  he  had  never  seen  a 
battle-field,  but  yet  they  felt  instinctively,  that  when  there, 
under  his  command,  they  would  not  be  exposed  by  rashness 
to  unnecessary  danger,  or,  on  the  other  hand,  to  disgrace 
by  timidity  or  unmanly  hesitation.  His  bearing,  when  in 
the  saddle,  was  so  firm  and  decided,  and  in  the  camp  so 
unostentatious,  and  yet  so  dignified,  that  it  commanded 
their  utmost  respect ;  and  his  readiness  to  share  every  pri- 
vation with  them,  won  their  love,  and  made  him  in  a  few 
days  almost  the  idol  of  the  rough  and  hardy  men  around 
him.  To  the  restraints  he  imposed  upon  them,  they  sub- 
mitted cheerfully  and  without  a  murmur,  and  notwithstand- 
ing their  previous  habits,  promised  soon  to  become  as 
orderly  as  the  best-drilled  veterans  of  the  army. 

We  will  not  tire  the  reader  with  a  description  of  the 
journey  to  Stevenson.  It  was,  we  suppose,  in  most  respects 
like  other  journeys  of  the  same  character,  and  under  similar 
circumstances.  The  parting,  too,  was  just  such  as  would 
be  anticipated  between  relations  so  near  and  so  dear  to 
each  other,  when  about  to  be  separated  for  an  indefinite 
period  of  time.  The  most  remarj^able  part  of  it  was  the 
gay  and  light-hearted  mood  which  came  upon  Tobias 
Wilson  when  the  Nashville  train  had  disappeared,  bearing 
away  all  that  he  loved  best  on  earth.  The  change  was 
noticed  by  Thomas  Rogers,  who  remarked :  "  You  seem 
delighted,  Toby,  to  get  rid  of  them." 

"Not  exactly  that,"  answered  Wilson;  "but  I  am  de- 
lighted that  they  are  beyond  the  reach  of  further  insult  or 

22* 


246  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

injury.  It  is  enough  for  a  man  to  witness  once  in  his  life- 
time the  bitter  and  galling  sight  of  a  loved  wife  and  dar- 
ling mother  driven  out  in  the  night-time  from  beneath  the 
roof  that  sheltered  them,  while  the  tears  that  gathered  in 
their  eyes  glittered  like  fiery  drops  in  the  light  of  the 
flames  that  made  them  homeless.  It  is  true,  they  were 
spared  the  added  pangs  of  insult;  but  these  too  might 
come  on  the  next  occasion :  and  who  can  tell  how  long 
that  occasion  would  be  deferred,  or  with  what  other  cir- 
cumstances of  outrage  it  might  be  attended  ?" 

"There  is  more,  Toby,"  replied  his  friend,  seriously, 
"though  you  know  it  not.  That  sight  has  warmed  to  life 
the  old  serpent  that  you  thought  dead.  Watch  yourself 
well,  Toby,  or  the  demon  of  revenge  will  again  assert  his 
dominion  over  vour  heart.  You  do  not  smile,  as  another 
would  do,  at  such  advice  from  me ;  nor  need  you,  Toby,  for 
he  who  has  felt  the  poison  of  the  rattlesnake  in  his  veins, 
can  best  describe  its  horrors." 

"I  should  be  far,"  said  Wilson,  "from  smiling  at  such 
advice  from  any  one  I  loved  or  respected ;  but  in  truth,  I 
do  not  think  I  need  it.  I  cherish  no  feeling  of  revenge 
against  Captain  Sykes ;  for  if  he  did  cause  all  that  mis- 
chief and  annoyance,  it  was,  in  part,  unintentional ;  and 
when  he  discovered  what  he  had  done,  he  acted  like  a  man, 
and  not  like  a  brute,  as  I  expected  he  would  do.  I  do  not 
forgive  hira,  but  I  would  not  harm  him  save  in  open 
battle." 

"How  about  your  own  wounds  and  bruises,  Toby,  and 
his  kind  intention  to  transfer  you  from  a  peaceful  and 
happy  home  to  the  hell  of  a  conscript's  life  ?" 

"That,"  replied  Wilson,  "is  a  chance  I  had  to  take,  in 
common  with  others  of  my  age,  whenever  I  met  with  a 
Confederate  officer  who  supposed  he  had  the  power  to 
capture  me.     But,  to  tell  the  truth,  if  it  had  come  alone, 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  247 

unaccompanied  by  circumstances  which  showed  him  in  a 
better  light  than  I  expected,  I  am  afraid  that  I  should  not 
have  considered  anything  short  of  Captain  Sykes's  life-blood 
a  sufficient  atonement.  But  when  I  saw  and  heard  him 
ordering  his  soldiers  to  work,  and  working  himself  like  a 
slave  to  save  your  father's  property,  and  observing  besides 
a  most  scrupulous  deference  toward  the  ladies,  whose 
slumbers  he  had  so  rudely  broken,  much  of  my  resentment 
vanished ;  and  I  repeat,  that  he  is  safe  from  me  unless  he 
crosses  my  path  in  battle." 

"I  will  not  argue  against  your  decision,  Toby,  for  in 
truth  I  am  half  inclined  to  believe  that  you  are  right ;  but 
if  Captain  Sykes  expects  any  such  forbearance  from  me,  he 
is  leaning  on  a  broken  reed." 

The  conversation  here  ended,  and  was  not  resumed  for 
months  afterward — months  crowded  with  terrible  and 
bloody  events,  in  which  both  had  borne  a  part  that  entitled 
them  to  a  place  in  history. 

In  accordance  with  the  plan  decided  upon  before  leaving 
his  encampment,  Captain  Rogers  remained  a  day  in  Steven- 
son. His  object  was  to  discern  any  spies  who  might  be 
watching  his  movements,  and  to  induce  them  to  believe 
that  his  purpose  was  to  march  southward  with  the  main 
cavalry  force.  On  the  following  night  he  took  up  his  line 
of  march,  but  not  in  the  direction  from  which  he  had  come. 
On  the  contrary,  he  moved  southwardly  toward  Bellefonte. 
Proceeding  on  this  route  for  some  miles,  he  suddenly  turned 
to  the  right,  and  traveling  as  rapidly  as  the  darkness  would 
permit,  he  arrived  by  daylight  at  a  point  in  the  mountains 
only  a  few  miles  distant  from  the  pathway  which  led  them 
over  to  the  dwelling  of  Tobias  Wilson.  Here  he  dismissed 
his  command,  instructing  them  to  make  their  way  singly  to 
the  encampment,  avoiding,  as  much  as  possible,  the  level 
country,  and  shunning  the  few  people  who  might  be  astir 


248  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

at  this  early  hour.  ,  In  company  with  Tobias  Wilson  he 
essayed  to  ascend  the  mountain  from  the  point  where  they 
then  were.  Intimately  acquainted  as  both  had  been,  from 
childhood,  with  every  pass  and  gorge,  every  cliff  and  pre- 
cipice, they  found  the  ascent  a  work  of  more  toil  and  labor 
than  they  had  anticipated.  Leading  their  horses,  they 
began  to  climb  the  steep  mountain-side,  sometimes  rolling 
away  huge  rocks,  sometimes  treading  on  the  brink  of  a 
dangerous  precipice — now  making  a  circuit — and  again 
leading  them  up  rugged  banks  where  it  required  all  their 
strength  to  support  the  animals  in  their  upward  struggles. 
At  length  they  reached  the  top  of  the  mountain,  which  is 
there  an  immense  plain,  running  for  many  miles  along  the 
ridge,  covered  with  a  rich  and  luxuriant  grass,  and  afford- 
ing excellent  pasturage  for  the  herds  of  cattle  and  other 
animals  which  were  driven  up  by  the  settlers  in  the  valley 
in  early  spring,  and  allowed  to  remain  with  but  little  atten- 
tion until  the  green  carpeting  of  the  earth  had  been  de- 
stroyed by  the  frosts  of  autumn.  Here  they  rested  for  some 
time,  for  the  double  purpose  of  recruiting  their  own  and 
their  horses'  strength  after  the  fatigue  they  had  undergone. 
Rogers,  taking  advantage  of  so  favorable  an  opportunity, 
communicated  to  Wilson  not  only  the  plans  which  he  con- 
sidered definitely  settled,  but  all  the  visionary  schemes 
which  had  been  floating  through  his  brain  for  the  last  five 
or  six  weeks.  At  some  of  these  his  friend  only  smiled,  to 
others  he  interposed  a  decided  negative,  and  others  again 
were  noted  as  worthy  of  future  consideration. 

"I  expect,  Toby,"  said  Rogers,  rising  and  throwing  the 
bridle-rein  over  his  horse's  head,  "that  you  will  have  it  all 
your  own  way  at  last ;  for  although  I  believe  you  are  a 
more  passionate  and  headstrong  man  than  I  am,  you  never 
seem  to  let  your  passions  get  the  better  of  your  judgment, 
and  never  allow  your  brain  to  be  troubled  by  such  wild 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  249 

visions  as  are  constantly  running  through  mine.     I  had 
rather  trust  to  your  opinion  than  mine  at  any  time." 

"You  don't  know,"  said  his  brother-in-law,  "what  is 
passing  in  my  brain.  I  may  have  as  many  unsubstantial 
dreams  as  you  have,  without  telling  about  them.  As  to 
your  future  course,  you  ought  not  to  be  governed  by  my 
advice,  unless,  after  examination,  you  are  satisfied  that  it  is 
sound.  I  shall  be  with  you  I  hope  for  a  long  time,  and 
you  need  not  make  any  important  movement  without  re- 
flection.    My  opinions  will  always  be  given  to  you  frankly 

and  fully." 

"I  shall  not  fail  to  ask  for  them,  Toby;  and  now  let  us 
ride.  I  am  both  hungry  and  sleepy,  and  shall  be  rejoiced 
when  your  cabins  come  in  sight." 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

When  Captain  Rogers  returned  to  his  encampment, 
hungry,  as  he  really  was,  he  could  not  restrain  his  impa- 
tience to  hear  the  report  of  the  scouts  he  had  sent  to 
gather  news  of  Captain  Sykes  and  his  company;  and, 
accordingly,  before  sitting  down  to  the  meal  that  he  and 
Tobias  Wilson  were  preparing,  he  dispatched  a  messenger 
to  the  camp  to  summon  them  to  his  presence.  Their  re- 
port was  confirmatory  of  all  that  Franklin  had  suspected. 
They  had  succeeded  in  getting  on  the  mountain  which  over- 
looked the  place  where  the  enemy  had  encamped  near  Mul- 
ford's  house,  and  had  remained  there  a  whole  day  watch- 
ing their  movements.  They  seemed  to  be  abundantly  sup- 
plied with  forage  and  provisions,  but  were  industriously 
engaged  in  collecting  more  ;  small  parties  were  constantly 
coming  in,  bringing  bags  of  corn,  bacon,  and  Indian-meal, 
bundles  of  fodder  and  oats.  Besides  this,  there  seemed  to 
be  considerable  activity  among  them.  Little  parties  of 
two  and  three  together,  whom  they  judged  to  be  scouts, 
rode  away  from  the  camp  and  did  not  return.  At  the 
house  of  a  Union  man,  whom  they  knew,  and  to  which 
they  ventured  at  night,  they  learned  that  the  provision  and 
forage,  which  they  had  seen  carried  into  Mulford's,  had 
been  forcibly  taken  from  loyal  citizens  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. He  was  himself  hourly  expecting  a  visit,  and  had 
hidden  away  almost  everything  he  could  conceal.  To  the 
remark  of  one  of  the  scouts,  that  if  Captain  Sykes's  for- 
(250) 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  251 

agers  should  pay  him  a  visit  that  night,  they  would  be 
apt  to  get  more  bullets  than  provisions,  he  replied  : 

"  They  will  not  come  at  night,  unless  they  come  in  a 
body  and  mean  to  do  more  mischief  than  carrying  off  a 
little  forage." 

A  good  deal  of  other  information  was  extracted  from 
him,  and  then,  having  filled  their  haversacks  with  the  re- 
mains of  the  bounteous  supper  that  had  been  provided  for 
them,  they  saddled  their  horses  and  set  out  on  their  return 
to  the  camp. 

This  report  had  been  made  in  the  presence  of  Lieuten- 
ant Miller  and  Tobias  Wilson.  When  it  was  ended,  Wil- 
son asked  how  many  men  he  had  with  him. 

"  We  could  not  tell  certainly,"  was  the  reply,  "  although 
we  counted  them  at  least  a  half  a  dozen  times.  They  were 
coming  and  going  through  all  the  day,  and  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  say  how  many  there  were ;  but  there  cannot  be  less 
than  seventy-five." 

"He  has  been  getting  recruits,"  said  Wilson,  ''for  he 
did  not  have  more  than  forty  men  when  he  crossed  the 
river." 

"  They  may  be  conscripts,"  suggested  Rogers. 

"  Both,  may  be,"  added  Miller ;  "  he  might  pick  up  a 
good  many  straggling  soldiers  about  here  any  day;  but 
conscripts  ain't  so  plenty,  and  it's  safer  to  calculate  that 
he's  got  with  him  at  least  sixty-five  or  seventy  men." 

To  this  proposition  both  Rogers  and  Wilson  assented. 
The  conference  was  then  adjourned  until  after  supper,  and 
Miller  was  requested  to  notify  John  Franklin  to  attend,  as 
Captain  Rogers  wished  to  avail  himself  of  Franklin's  in- 
timate knowledge  of  the  locality. 

Before  daylight  the  next  morning,  Thomas  Rogers,  with 
eighty  men,  set  out  upon  his  first  military  expedition,  the 
object  being  to  surprise  and  capture  or  cut  to  pieces  the 


252  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

Confederate  troops  under  Captain  Sykes.  During  the 
day's  march,  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  make  prisoner 
one  of  the  enemy's  scouts.  The  information  obtained  from 
him  was  of  considerable  service  ;  but  his  capture  was  most 
important,  because  it  furiiished  Captain  Rogers  with  a 
guide  whose  knowledge  of  the  direction  taken  by  the  va- 
rious foraging  parties  enabled  him  to  avoid  the  places 
where  it  was  most  likely  they  were  carrying  on  their  plun- 
dering operations.  At  another  time,  Rogers  would  have 
hunted  up  these  parties  with  avidity ;  but  he  dreaded  to 
encounter  them  now,  lest  some  one  might  escape  and  carry 
the  news  of  his  approach  to  the  camp,  thus  rendering  the 
flight  of  the  band  almost  certain.  The  prisoner  was  ac- 
cordingly placed  between  two  troopers  at  the  head  of  the 
column,  with  a  distinct  intimation  that  the  first  foraging 
party  they  encountered  would  be  the  signal  for  his  death. 
Captain  Rogers  was  not  satisfied  with  this  precaution 
alone.  Four  picked  men  were  sent  forward  in  advance, 
while  others  were  thrown  out  from  a  quarter  to  a  half 
mile  on  either  flank.  He  knew  that  he  was  traversing  a 
country  where  four  out  of  every  five  men  were  his  ene- 
mies. He  therefore  avoided  passing  near  any  habitation 
when  there  was  any  practicable  way  of  getting  round  it 
unobserved  ;  and  when  this  could  not  be  done,  he  did  not 
hesitate  to  resort  to  the  expedient  of  reporting  his  com- 
mand as  rebel  troops — a  story  which  the  motley  appear- 
ance of  the  men  went  far  to  confirm. 

It  was  dusk  as  they  slowly  ascended  a  gap  in  the  mount- 
ains which  led  to  Mulford's  house.  At  this  point  Thomas 
Rogers  had  expected  to  encounter  a  picket,  or  a  guard  of 
some  kind,  to  dispute  the  passage  or  give  notice  of  the 
approach  of  danger,  and  his  advanced  scouts  had  been  in- 
structed to  move  forward  cautiously,  and  fall  back  in- 
stantly if  his  expectations  should  prove  correct;  but  no 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  253 

sign  of  an  enemy  was  to  be  met  with — not  a  sentry  had 
been  posted  within  this  important  pass,  which  afforded  an 
easy  access  to  the  rebel  camp.     It  was  evident  that  Cap- 
tain Sykes's  mind  was  entirely  at  ease,  and  that  he  had  no 
suspicion  of  danger.     The  scout  who  brought  back  these 
tidings  reported  that  his  comrades  had  halted  on  the  crest 
of  the  ridge,  where  they  had  a  full  view  from  the  light  of 
the  camp-fires  of  the  valley  below.    Moving  on  slowly  and 
cautiously  until  within  a  few  yards  of  the  summit,  Cap- 
tain Eogers  ordered  his  troop  to  remain  in  their  saddles 
where  they  were  until  his  return.     Then  dismounting  from 
his  horse,  and  calling  upon  Wilson  and  Franklin  to  do  the 
same,  they  ascended  the  gap  to  the  point  from  which  his 
scouts  were  still  taking  observations  of  the  valley  below. 
The  bright  light  of  the  camp-fires  rendered  every  object' 
distinctly  visible,  and  the  total  absence  of  any  apprehen- 
sion of  danger  on  the  part  of  his  enemies,  allowed  him  full 
leisure  for  a  careful  survey  of  the  ground.     The  valley  was 
of  considerable  extent,  the  greater  part  of  it  being  "fenced 
in "  and  under  cultivation  by  Mulford,  who  was  a  man  of 
ample  means  for  that  country.     It  was  not  exactly  level, 
but  gradually  sloped  upward,  in  a  triangular  shape,  from 
the  "  bottom  "  at  its  base  to  Mulford's  house,  which  was 
situated  near  the  apex  of  the  triangle.     By  the  light  of 
the  fires  there  seemed  to  be  but  one  mode  of  egress  besides 
the  one  occupied  by  the  United  States  troops,  though,  in 
point  of  fact,  the  mountain  could  be  ascended  by  horse- 
men who  were  acquainted  with  it  at  many  points.     Judg- 
ing, however,  only  from  what  he  saw,  he  concluded  that  if 
they  could  be  cut  off  from  the  dense  forest  which  covered 
the  bottom  land,  the  whole  band  must  be  captured  or 
killed,  and  his  dispositions  were  made  accordingly.    Leav- 
ing a  small  guard  in  the  gap,  he  directed  Franklin  to  dis- 

23 


254  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

mount  thirty  men  and  if  possible  to  gain  a  position  on  the 
side  of  the  mountain,  within  good  rifle  range  of  the  enemy's 
encampment.     The  hooting  of  an  owl  was  to  be  the  signal 
that  this  was  accomplished.     The  rebel  horses  were  all  un- 
saddled, their  arms  stacked,  some  of  the  men  were  busily 
engaged  preparing  supper,  some  of  them  playing  cards  by 
the  light  of  the  fires,  while  others  were  lying  on  the  ground 
or  lounging  about  the  encampment,  without  an  apparent 
object.     It  had  been  arranged  that  Franklin,  after  giving 
the  signal  that  his  covert  was  gained,  should  wait  full  five 
minutes  before  pouring  in  his  fire  upon  the  unconscious 
freebooters,  in  order  that  Rogers  with  his  mounted  men 
might  have  time  to  descend  the  gap,  and  by  hard  riding 
interpose  between  the  enemy  and  the  woods,  so  as  com- 
pletely to  cut  off  their  retreat.     Wholly  unprepared  as 
they  were,  Captain  Rogers  did  not  doubt  that  this  move- 
ment would  be  crowned  with  complete  success.     But  there 
was  one  important  point  which  his  inexperience  caused 
him  to  overlook.    He  had  no  sooner  commenced  the  rocky 
descent,  after  the  concerted  signal  WAS  given,  than  the 
sound  of  his  horses'  feet  reverberated  through  the  valley 
and  attracted  the  attention  of  the  hitherto  confident  and 
careless  troopers.     Captain  Sykes  was  himself  the  first  to 
hear   the   sound,  or   at  least   to   understand  its  import. 
Springing  at  once  to  his  horse,  he  shouted  to  his  men  to 
arm  and  mount.     From  some  cause  his  own  and  the  horse 
of  his  orderly  were  already  bridled  and  saddled.     Perhaps 
he  had  contemplated  a  night  ride  to  a  more  pleasant  enter- 
tainment than  that  to  which  he  was  unexpectedly  invited. 
Be  that  as  it  may,  he  was  almost  instantly  in  the  saddle, 
riding  along  the  front  of  his  camp  and  shouting  eagerly  to 
his  men  to  mount  and  form.     The  first  part  of  the  order 
needed  no  repetition ;  the  second  part  was  unheeded,  for 
Franklin  now  poured  in  a  deadly  fire  upon  the  frightened 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  255 

and  disordered  mass,  and  tlien  rushed  on  with  loud  shouts 
to  complete  his  work  with  the  bayonet  and  revolver.  He 
had  aimed  at  Captain  Sykes,  and  in  the  brief  interval  be- 
tween the  firing  and  the  order  to  charge,  Tobias  Wilson, 
who  was  by  Franklin's  side,  observed  that  officer  to  reel  in 
his  saddle ;  but  he  quickly  recovered  himself,  and,  grasping 
the  reins  firmly,  wheeled  his  horse,  and  shouting  "  Follow 
me  I"  galloped  off  in  a  direction  at  right  angles  to  the 
woody  bottom,  toward  a  lane  which  ran  between  two  culti- 
vated fields  to  the  mountain. 

''You  have  winged  him,"  said  Wilson,  "but  that  is  all. 
Shall  I  finish  the  job  ?" 

"No  !  for  God's  sake  no  I"  answered  Franklin,  laying  his 
hand  upon  the  half-raised  gun.  "  If  he  escapes  this  time 
I  shall  meet  him  again.  There  are  enough  of  them  in 
yonder  camp  for  you  to  shoot.  Now  come  on,  and  leave 
my  man  to  me." 

The  troopers  of  Captain  Sykes  were  accustomed  to 
rapid  move^nents,  and  by  the  time  the  dismounted  Union 
men  had  cleared  the  space  between  them,  the  most  of  them 
were  riding  rapidly  across  the  valley  in  the  direction  taken 
by  their  captain.  To  accomplish  this,  however,  they  had 
been  forced  to  abandon  guns,  blankets,  everything  except 
their  horses.  A  few  of  them,  perhaps,  who  habitually  car- 
ried their  knives  and  revolvers  belted  about  their  persons, 
succeeded  in  saving  these ;  but  in  all  other  respects  the 
troopers  of  Captain  Sykes  were  completely  disarmed. 

Thomas  Rogers,  in  his  anxiety  to  get  in  the  rear  of 
the  rebels,  had  galloped  by  without  observing  the  lane 
through  which  his  enemy  was  escaping.  In  his  eagerness 
to  attain  the  desired  object,  he  never  once  looked  back; 
and  when  he  had  wheeled  his  men  to  intercept  the  fugi- 
tives, he  was  mortified  to  find  that  they  were  already  so 
far  away  as  to  render  pursuit,  over  a  rough  and  unknown 


256  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

country,  with  his  tired  and  jaded  animals,  little  short  of 
madness.  With  a  bitter  curse  he  rode  toward  the  en- 
campment, which  was  now  occupied  by  his  own  dismounted 
troopers,  who  were  busily  engaged  in  collecting  the  spoils 
which  had  been  left  by  the  flying  enemy.  Here  he  found 
his  temporary  lieutenant  seated  upon  the  ground  in  no 
better  humor  than  himself.  His  first  exclamation,  after 
rising  and  saluting  his  superior  officer,  was : 

"Just  think  of  it,  captain, — I  had  a  fair  shot  at  him  in 
less  than. a  hundred  yards,  and,  by  God,  I  only  barked  him 
enough  to  make  him  reel  a  little  in  the  saddle !" 

"And  I,"  replied  Rogers,  "was  foolish  enough  to  gallop 
by  a  plain  road,  and  let  him  escape  without  losing  a  man. 
What  have  you  done  here  ?  Have  you  captured  anything 
worth  taking  ?" 

"  I  haven't  looked ;  but  the  boys  say  that  there's  five 
killed  dead  and  seven  or  eight  more  badly  wounded.  I 
suspect  that  there's  more  of  them  with  holes  in  their  skins, 
but  they  weren't  hurt  bad  enough  to  keep  them  from  riding 
away.  Howsever,  we've  got  all  their  guns  and  plunder, 
and  Captain  Sykes  can  do  no  more  devilment  in  this 
section  for  a  long  time  to  come.'' 

It  did  not  take  Captain  Kogers  long  to  ascertain  that 
the  report  of  Franklin  fell  short  of  the  truth.  In  addi- 
tion to  the  captures  enumerated  by  him,  there  had  been 
taken  five  or  six  conscripts,  who,  at  the  first  report  of  fire- 
arms, had  thrown  themselves  flat  upon  the  ground  to  avoid 
being  hurt  in  the  melee.  Some  twelve  or  fifteen  horses 
had  also  been  secured ;  so  that  the  booty  altogether  was 
very  considerable,  and  the  importance  of  the  adventure 
greatly  enhanced  by  the  release  of  the  young  men  who 
bad  been  so  unfortunate  as  to  fall  into  the  grasp  of  Cap- 
tain Sykes.  When  these  results  had  been  ascertained, 
Rogers's  next  care  was  to  have  the  wounded  removed  to 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  257 

Mulford's  house,  wkere  they  could  be  better  provided  for 
than  in  the  camps. 

"You  will  .have  no  objection,  I  suppose,  Mr.  Mulford," 
said  Rogers,  "  to  take  care  of  your  own  friends  ?  I  will 
supply  you  with  blankets  from  the  camp  to  make  pallets 
for  them.  Whatever  else  is  necessary  to  be  done,  I  must 
leave  to  you.  Permit  me  to  add,  that  as  I  will  ha#e  busi- 
ness with  you  in  the  morning  I  shall  take  the  liberty  of 
placing  a  guard  around  this  dwelling,  and  whoever  at- 
tempts to  leave  it  will  incur  some  risk  of  being  shot.  You 
had  better  give  notice  of  this  to  your  household." 

Mulford  protested  against  the  guard,  saying  that  he 
was  a  peaceable  citizen,  who  was  compelled  to  do  what- 
ever the  Confederates  wished,  as  he  had  no  power  to  resist 
them,  and  that  it  was  a  hard  measure  to  punish  him  for  what 
he  could  not  avoid. 

"  I  understand  all  that,"  was  the  reply;  "  but  I  have  no 
time  to  discuss  it  now." 

So  saying,  Rogers  went  about  giving  strict  orders  for 
the  posting  of  sentries  and  pickets,  and  for  taking  all  the 
other  precautions  against  surprise,  a  neglect  of  which  had 
that  night  cost  his  enemy  so  dear.  In  the  very  outset  of 
his  career  he  had  been  taught  a  lesson  of  vigilance  that 
he  never  forgot.  He  knew  well  enough  that  no  danger 
threatened  him  ;  but  he  wished  to  accustom  his  men  to 
extreme  watchfulness,  and  he  thought  this  a  good  oppor- 
tunity to  impress  upon  them  the  useful  lesson  that  there 
was  no  excuse  for  a  partisan  troop  who  allows  itself  to  be 
surprised  under  any  circumstances  whatever. 

Early  in  the  morning  he  caused  Mr.  Mulford  to  be  called 
from  his  comfortable  bed  to  a  conference  which  that  gen- 
tleman would  gladly  have  declined.  By  dint  of  close  and 
long-continued  questioning,  he  extracted  from  him  the  fact 
that  all  the  bacon  which  had  be^n  taken  by  the  marauders 

23* 


258  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

was  stored  in  his  smoke-honse  ;  that  the  corn  was  in  his 
barn;  the  oats,  fodder,  etc.  stacked  in  his  barn-yard,  ex- 
cept, of  course,  the  amount  they  had  consumed  during 
their  stay,  which  Mr.  Mulford  represented  as  very  great. 

"You  will  oblige  me,"  said  Rogers,  "  by  bringing  the 
key  of  your  smoke-house.  I  must  look  at  its  contents 
myself.i^ 

A  brief  examination  of  the  smoke-house  was  followed  by 
a  walk  to  the  barn.     On  their  return,  Rogers  calmly  ad- 
dressed his  companion,  who  was  swelling  with  suppressed . 
anger  at  the  loss  he  anticipated,  though  nothing  had  been, 
as  yet,  said  of  the  purposes  of  the  examination. 

"  If  a  stranger  should  visit  this  place,  Mr.  Mulford,"  said 
Rogers,  "he  would  no  doubt  wonder  for  what  purpose 
you  are  hoarding  so  many  of  the  necessaries  of  life  when 
the  number  of  your  family  is  no  greater  than  it  is." 

"  You  know,  sir,"  was  the  curt  reply,  "  that  these  things 
are  not  mine ;  that  I  have  barely  enough  provisions  of  my 
own  to  support  my  family  for  the  remainder  of  the  year,  if, 
indeed,  I  have  so  much." 

"  No,  I  do  not  know  it,  Mr.  Mulford.  I  find  the  plun- 
der of  a  whole  neighborhood  so  mingled  with  your  prop- 
erty that  they  cannot  be  separated,  and  I  feel  a  strong 
conviction  that  if  Captain  Sykes  had  been  allowed  to  leave 
here  in  peace,  you  would  have  become  his  heir.  The 
chances  of  war  have  been  against  you,  and  you  must  abide 
the  consequences.  Every  Union  citizen  who  has  been 
robbed  by  that  rascally  gang  shall  be  reimbursed  to  the 
full,  if  it  takes  all  that  is  here  and  your  own  property  be- 
sides. But  I  do  not  apprehend  that  even  then  your  stock 
would  be  so  reduced  as  to  prevent  you  from  feeding  the 
first  rebel  soldiery  who  may  come  this  way;  you  would 
be  sure  to  have  enough  for  that." 

"  You  forget,  sir,"  was  the  reply,  in  a  sullen  tone,  "that 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  259 

mucli  of  the  provisions  and  forage  was  consumed  by  the 
troops  during  their  stay,  and  there  ought  to  be  a  reduction 
of  the  amount  demanded  of  me  to  that  extent.  You  can 
scarcely  expect  me  to  replace  that." 

''  I  have  not  forgotten,  sir,  and  I  shall  make  no  reduc- 
tion. It  would  be  curious  justice,  to  excuse  the  robber 
from  making  restitution,  because  he  had  consume^  or  dis- 
posed of  his  stolen  property." 

"  But,  sir,  I  did  not  take  it.  I  did  not  bring  a  pound 
of  it  here ;  nor  did  any  one  belonging  to  my  place." 

"  Certainly  not ;  I  know  that  well  enough.  You  would 
not  compromise  yourself  so  far ;  but  you  aided,  abetted, 
and  encouraged  the  thieves,  and  you  expected  that  when 
they  went  away  you  would  profit  by  it.  It  is  useless  to 
argue  the  case,  Mr.  Mulford  ;  my  mind  is  made  up,  and 
some  of  my  soldiers  have  already  gone  out  to  notify  the 
Union  citizens  to  come  and  reclaim  their  property." 

'*  It  did  not  all  come  from  Union  citizens,  sir ;  a  great 
deal  of  it  was  freely  given  by  Captain  Sykes's  friends." 

"  So  much  the  better  for  you,  Mr.  Mulford ;  the  defi- 
ciency created  by  consumption  will  thus,  in  part,  be  made 
up,  and  you  will  escape  taxation  to  that  amount,  as  I  in- 
tend to  take  nothing  save  that  which  has  been  forced  from 
my  friends." 

Thus  ended  the  interview.  Captain  Rogers  turned  on 
his  heel  and  walked  back  to  his  encampment,  leaving  Mr. 
Mulford  to  indulge  such  reflections  as  his  situation  sug- 
gested. They  were  unpleasant  enough,  though  in  truth 
he  had  no  cause  for  sorrow,  for  many  of  the  Union  men 
refused  to  come  and  claim  their  property  for  fear  of  greater 
exactions  hereafter,  and  in  this  way  there  was  considerable 
surplus  after  full  restitution  to  those  who  came  to  receive 
it.  A  part  of  this  was  consumed  by  Captain  Rogers's 
men ;  but  Captain*  Sykes  was  a  good  forager,  and  there 


260  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

still  remained  enough  to  support  Mr.  Mulford's  family  for 
more  than  three  mouths,  though  he  did  not  fail  to  make 
it  the  occasion  of  complaints  of  heavy  losses  and  of  de- 
manding compensation  from  the  Confederates  therefor. 

Captain  Rogers  remained  with  his  command  at  this  point 
for  two  days,  for  the  purpose  of  carrying  out  his  decree 
of  restoration.  On  the  evening  of  the  second  day,  John 
Franklin  and  one  of  his  comrades,  returning  from  an  expe- 
dition upon  which  they  had  been  sent,  passed  the  house  of 
Mrs.  Austin.  Near  the  road  and  some  distance  from  the 
house,  her  daughter  Sarah  was  seated  on  the  trunk  of 
a  fallen  tree.  She  turned  a  little  pale  when  Franklin 
reined  up  his  horse  not  far  from  where  she  was  seated, 
and  saluted  her  as  an  old  acquaintance.  Nevertheless,  she 
said,  firmly  enough : 

"And  so,  John  Franklin,  you  are  not  only  a  deserter, 
but  have  turned  traitor  also,  and  have  taken  up  arms 
against  your  country." 

'*It  is  pretty  well  known,"  replied  Franklin,  carelessly, 
"to  every  child  in  this  neighborhood,  that  so  far  as  the 
rebel  service  is  concerned,  'I  cussed  and  quit'  some  time 
ago ;  but,  instead  of  being  a  traitor,  Miss  Sarah,  my  no- 
tion is  that  I  have  turned  an  honest  man,  and  have  enlisted 
on  the  side  I  ought  to  have  done  at  first,  and  should  have 
done  but  for  you." 

"But  for  me  I"  she  exclaimed.  "Dog !  what  right  have 
you  to  connect  my  name  with  yours,  or  to  impute  your 
acts  to  my  influence  ?" 

"None  now,  thank  God  !"  was  the  reply. 

Then  wheeling  his  horse  to  pursue  his  journey,  he  rode 
a  few  paces,  and,  turning  on  his  saddle,  again  addressed 
her  : 

"I  say,  Miss  Sarah,  tell  Captain  Sykes,  when  you  see 
him,  that  he  owes  that  bullet-hole  in  his  skin  to  me,  and 


TOBIAS     WILSON. 


261 


that  the  next  time  we  meet,  he'll  be  in  debt  to  me  for  a 
coffin.  It  ain't  often  that  I  miss  drawing  the  life-blood  at 
a  hundred  yards  distance." 

The  girl  rose  up,  absolutely  speechless  with  rage.  When 
the  power  of  speech  came  back  to  her,  he  was  too  far  off 
to  hear  the  words  she  shrieked  after  him : 

"You'll  be  swinging  to  the  limb  of  a  tree  before  that 
time  comes,  or  I'm  mistaken." 

But,  as  she  walked  home,  she  was  by  no  means  certain 
that  her  prediction  would  not  prove  false.  She  could  not 
help  acknowledging  to  her  own  heart  that  John  Franklin 
was  a  dangerous  enemy.  He  was  shrewd,  cautious,  fear- 
less, strong,  active,  and  was,  withal,  one  of  the  best  shots 
in  the  country.  It  is  not  pleasant,  even  to  the  bravest,  to 
know  that  such  a  man  is  daily  and  hourly  seeking  to  take 
away  the  life  that  God  has  given  us ;  and  when  her  passion 
had  subsided,  Sarah  Austin  shivered  at  the  danger  which 
threatened  the  man  she  loved  even  while  distrusting  him. 
She  returned  to  the  house  and  at  once  communicated  the 
tidings  to  him,  for  there  he  was  then  concealed,  and  her 
real  business  near  the  road  was  to  keep  watch,  and  give 
notice  of  any  approaching  danger. 

How  little  did  Franklin  dream  that  his  enemy  was  so 
near  him  I  It  was  the  last  place  he  would  have  expected 
to  find  him  ;  for  he  thought  that  his  known  intimacy  with 
the  family  would  have  prevented  him  from  seeking  conceal- 
ment where  it  was  so  likely  that  he  would  be  looked  for 
if  any  search  was  made.  Besides,  Franklin  did  not  know 
how  serious  his  wound  was,  and  supposed  it  altogether 
probable  that  he  was  on  horseback  retreating  south.  Cap- 
tain Sykes's  possible  presence  in  that  neighborhood  did 
not  once  cross  his  mind,  and  he  rode  away  without  a 
thought  of  his  finding  a  hiding-place  beneath  the  roof  that 
he  had  such  good  reasons  for  believing  he  had  dishonored. 


262  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

Yet  it  was  even  so.  Captain  Sykes's  wound,  though  not 
mortal,  was  a  serious  one,  and  he  had  not  ridden  far  in  his 
flight  before  he  discovered  that  he  could  not  sit  on  his  horse 
much  longer.  The  fugitives,  finding  that  no  pursuit  was 
attempted,  recovered  from  their  fright,  and  though  still  re- 
treating rapidly,  began  to  form  in  something  like  order. 
A  few  only  had  fled  up  the  mountain ;  the  remainder,  with 
Captain  Sykes  at  their  head,  skirted  its  base  until  they 
had  passed  the  cultivated  land,  when  they  turned  into  the 
wood,  and  pushed  on  directly  for  the  country  road  hereto- 
fore mentioned.  At  that  point  their  captain  declared  his 
inability  to  ride  farther,  and  they  at  once  resolved  to  carry 
-him  to  the  nearest  house,  (which  happened  to  be  Mrs. 
Austin's,)  and  leave  him  there  for  the  present.  Accord- 
ingly, a  soldier  mounted  behind  him  to  support  him  in  the 
saddle,  while  another  took  the  rein  for  the  purpose  of  lead- 
ing his  horse.  In  this  way  he  was  safely  conducted  to 
Mrs.  Austin's  dwelling.  The  men  remained  no  longer 
than  to  see  him  placed  comfortably  in  bed,  and  to  receive 
his  commands  to  make  their  way  singly,  or  in  pairs,  to 
Guntersville  on  the  south  side  of  the  Tennessee,  where 
they  could  obtain  other  arms  in  lieu  of  those  they  had  lost. 
On  the  third  day  Captain  Rogers  broke  up  his  encamp- 
ment, and  returned  to  Tobias  Wilson's  house.  Believing 
that  there  was  no  danger  now  to  be  apprehended  from 
irregular  Confederate  bands,  he  determined  to  cross  the 
river  and  take  part  in  the  stirring  scenes  about  to  be  en- 
acted around  Chattanooga,  and  in  Northern  Georgia  and 
East  Tennessee. 


CHAPTER  XIY. 

It  was  near  the  last  of  August  when  General  Rosecrans, 
preceded  by  his  cavalry,  crossed  the  main  body  of  his  forces 
to  the  south  side  of  the  Tennessee  River.  The  direct  road 
to  Chattanooga  is  a  narrow  passway,  overhung  by  lofty 
mountains  on  one  side,  and  hemmed  in  by  the  river  on  the 
other.  There  was  not  a  mile  of  this  road  where  a  mere 
handful  of  men  could  not  have  arrested  the  march  of  an 
army.  Even  unopposed,  it  would  have  been  difficult  for 
General  Rosecrans  to  have  transported  his  artillery  and 
baggage  along  the  only  route  it  was  possible  to  travel — a 
route  which  involved  the  crossing  of  the  river  twice  after 
leaving^Bridgeport,  making  three  crossings  in  a  distance 
of  less  than  thirty  miles.  Accordingly,  the  army  was  moved 
southward  down  two  valleys  between  the  mountain  ranges, 
in  the' direction  of  Rome  and  Dalton,  Georgia.  It  would 
be  altogether  foreign  to  the  purpose  of  this  story  to  em- 
brace in  it  an  account  of  the  great  historical  events  which 
were  about  to  transpire  in  that  wild  and  rugged  region, 
and  stamp  it  with  the  seal  of  immortality.  They  will  be 
referred  to  only  so  far  as  they  affected  the  movements  of 
individuals  whose  adventures  are  herein  recorded,  and 
whose  subsequent  career  we  propose  to  trace  out. 

Believing  that  the  country  was  now  almost  entirely  clear 
of  prowling  bands  of  Wheeler's  cavalry,  and  that  his  friends 
were  consequently  safe  from  molestation,  Thomas  Rogers 
crossed  the  river,  and  by  rapid  marches  soon  overtook  the 

(263) 


264  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

advancing  Union  army.  Here  the  services  of  his  troop 
were  immediately  put  into  requisition.  He  was  directed 
to  scour  the  country  to  the  south  and  east,  and  report  daily 
all  that  he  v^as  enabled  to  learn  of  the  strength,  position, 
and  probable  movements  of  the  rebels.  This  was  a  duty 
they  were  peculiarly  fitted  to  discharge,  and  the  order  was 
received  by  the  men  with  a  cheerful  acquiescence,  which 
proved  that  it  would  not  be  negligently  performed.  Reared 
among  the  mountains — accustomed  from  early  boyhood  to 
clamber  over  them  on  foot  and  on  horseback — they  had 
become  familiar  with  the  characteristics  of  the  whole  range, 
and  could  tell  in  the  darkest  night,  from  an  examination  of 
the  strata  of  rock,  what  direction  to  journey,  as  certainly 
as  the  sailor  is  able  to  direct  the  course  of  his  vessel  by  the 
north  star.  They  were  thus  enabled  to  render  essential 
service  to  the  Union  army ;  but  they  were  themselves  sub- 
jected to  harrowing  sights  of  distress  on  the  one  hand,  and 
cruel  barbarity  on  the  other,  for  which  they  were  not  pre- 
pared. 

The  inhabitants  of  these  mountains,  like  those  of  the 
entire  range,  from  the  western  border  of  Yirginia  to  the 
eastern  line  of  Mississippi,  were,  by  a  large  majority,  of 
strong  Union  sentiments.  But  many  of  the  young  men 
had  joined  the  Federal  army,  and  many  others  had  been 
run  down  and  caught  by  Confederate  conscript  officers,  and 
forced  into  that  service.  It  thus  often  happened  that  upon 
the  battle-field  brother  was  arrayed  against  brother,  and 
the  father  stood  opposed  to  his  little  son,  whom  he  had 
left,  when  he  took  up  arms  for  the  Union,  to  cheer  and  as- 
sist his  mother  during  the  absence  of  her  husband.  He 
never  dreamed  that  that  tender  youth  would  be  forced,  by 
the  merciless  executors  of  a  merciless  law,  from  his  mother's 
knee  to  the  companionship  of  a  hardened  soldiery,  and 
dragged  to  the  battle-field,  where  a  father's  unconscious 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  265 

bullet  might  terminate  his  young  existence,  or  where  his 
own  shot  might  send  that  father,  bleeding,  to  his  grave. 
In  this  way,  from  voluntary  enlistments  on  one  side,  and 
forced  conscriptions  on  the  other,  the  log-cabins  that  had 
dotted  the  mountain  sides  were  untenanted,  save  by  the 
old  and  infirm,  the  women  and  their  children.     It  might 
have  been  supposed  that  the  feebleness  of  age  and  the 
helplessness  of  infancy,  aided  by  the  tears  of  mothers  and  of 
daughters,  would  have  protected  these  unfortunate  beings 
from  further  wrong ;  but  there  were  in  Wheeler's  cavalry 
men  not  originally  altogether  bad,  who  had  become  hard- 
ened by  long  indulgence  and  the  absence  of  all  military 
restraint,  until  they  had  become  callous  to  the  sight  of 
misery  and  destitution,  and  to  whose  depraved  minds  arson 
and  murder  were  things  to  be  boasted  of  around  the  camp- 
fire,  rather  than  crimes  to  people  their  slumbers  with  images 
of  horror.     These  men  were  performing  the  same  duty  for 
General  Bragg  that  Rogers  had  undertaken  for  General 
Rosecrans,  and  it  sometimes  happened  that  small  parties 
would  meet  in  the  defiles  of  the  mountains,  when  combats 
ensued,  in  which  the  loyal  men  invariably  gained  the  ad- 
vantage ;  thus  illustrating  a  truth  familiar  to  every  military 
commander,  that  a  soldier  turned  robber  can  never  after- 
ward be  trusted  to  do  his  duty  manfully  in  a  fair  and  open 
encounter.     But  if  they  would  not  fight,  they  could  and 
did  plunder  and  oppress.     In  their  excursions,  they  would 
stop  at  a  house,  however  poor  the  inmates  might  be,  de- 
manding food  for  themselves  and  forage  for  their  horses, 
and  would  then  proceed  to  help  themselves  to  whatever 
else  they  chanced  to  covet.     In  many  instances  they  cut 
from  the  looms  the  coarse  cloth  intended  to  cover  the 
ragged  children.     If  there  was  a  good  blanket  or  a  warm 
coverlid  on  the  bed,  it  was  sure  to  be  appropriated.    What- 
ever they  could  use  themselves  or  sell  to  others,  was  un- 

24 


266  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

scrupulously  seized.  To  entreaties  and  remonstrances  they 
answered  with  jeers  and  laughter ;  and  if  the  poor  people 
sometimes  forgot  their  helplessness,  and  indulged  in  the 
natural  language  of  indignation,  the  chances  were  that  the 
torch  would  be  applied  to  their  dwellings,  and  they  would 
be  left  alone  with  the  burning  ashes  that  marked  the  spot 
they  had  once  called  home.  Upon  sights  like  these  Thomas 
Rogers  and  his  men  were  almost  daily  compelled  to  look ; 
while  stories  of  even  a  darker  dye  were  continually  poured 
into  their  ears.  He  felt  his  own  heart  growing  harder,  and 
longed  to  be  relieved  from  a  service  which  was  enlivened 
by  so  little  of  the  excitement  of  battle,  and  saddened  by  so 
many  spectacles  of  human  misery.  But  there  was  no  one 
to  take  his  place;  and  he  continued  to  perform  the  dis- 
tasteful duty  until  it  was  terminated  by  the  battle  of  Chicka- 
mauga.  In  the  mean  time,  he  had  received  message  after 
message  from  home,  which  filled  his  mind  with  gloom  and 
apprehension.  He  had  supposed  that  comparative  tran- 
quillity would  reign  during  his  absence.  The  only  troop 
of  Confederates,  of  whose  existence  he  was  aware,  had  been 
rendered  powerless  for  mischief;  and,  judging  from  his  own 
feelings,  he  had  supposed  that  all  the  troops  who  had  been 
cut  off,  or  who  had  straggled  from  the  rebel  army  at  Tulla- 
homa,  Hoover's  Gap,  and  Shelbyville,  would  be  flocking  to 
the  south  side  of  the  river,  to  join  General  Bragg  in  the 
great  struggle  upon  which  so  much  depended. 

He  was  young  and  inexperienced,  and  had  not  yet 
learned  that  marauders  are  not  the  men  to  seek  the  post  of 
honor  and  of  danger.  Originally  they  may  have  had  some 
faint  notions  of  obtaining  an  honorable  fame  by  fighting 
for  their  country.  They  may  have  been  deceived  by  ambi- 
tious leaders,  and  taught  to  believe  that  they  were  called 
upon  by  wrong  and  oppression  to  take  up  arms  for  the 
protection  of  themselves  and  the  security  of  the  liberty  of 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  267 

their  children.  They  may  have  believed,  for  no  pains 
hsid  been  spared  to  make  them  believe,  that  the  South 
had  been  invaded  without  cause,  and  unless  they  resisted 
manfully,  -they  would  become  the  serfs  and  bondsmen 
of  the  North;  but  if  such  feelings  ever  had  a  place  in 
their  bosoms,  they  had  been  long  since  superseded  by  a 
love  of  rapine  and  an  unscrupulous  thirst  for  gain. 
Finding  themselves  in  an  unprotected  country,  and  one 
which  afforded  an  ample  field  for  the  exercise  of  their 
devilish  propensities,  they  had  no  idea  of  exchanging 
it  for  one  where  armed  men  were  to  be  met,  and  all  the 
dangers  of  the  battle-field  encountered.  It  was  far  more 
pleasant  to  prey  upon  the  weak  and  helpless  than  to  face 
on  equal  terms  the  strong  and  the  manly.  In  their  eyes, 
laurels  were  a  poor  compensation  for  the  substantial  fruits 
of  a  successful  foray.  The  approach  of  an  engagement 
was  no  inducement  to  them  to  join  their  commands  ;  they 
remained  to  feed  like  cormorants  upon  a  country  which  was 
defenseless,  while  their  comrades  were  face  to  face  with  the 
enemy.  To  the  loyal  men  of  Jackson  County,  theirs  was 
a  terrible  visitation,  and  they  scTon  became  familiar  with 
horrors  to  which  they  had  heretofore  been  comparative 
strangers.  Every  day  had  its  tale  of  robbery,  every  night 
the  heavens  were  lurid  from  the  flames  of  burning  houses. 
These  were  occasionally  interspersed  with  bloodier  deeds, 
until  at  last  no  man  could  lie  down  at  night  with  any  assu- 
rance that  his  throat  would  not  be  cut  before  morning,  and 
his  dwelling  burned  over  the  heads  of  his  family.  They 
had  ceased  to  regard  their  property  as  their  own,  and  only 
held  it  subject  to  the  will  of  the  first  armed  guerrilla  whom 
ill  fortune  directed  to  their  doors.  All  this,  and  much  more, 
was  communicated  to  Rogers,  and  bitter  tears  gathered  in 
his  eyes  as  he  listened  to  the  recital ;  but  he  knew  it  would 
be  useless  to  ask  for  permission  to  return  at  such  a  time. 


268  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

A  mighty  stake  was  then  being  played  for,  and  individual 
suffering,  however  pitiful,  and  however  wide-spread,  could 
not  be  allowed  to  interfere  with  the  combinations  upon 
v.'hich  success  depended.  At  length  the  battle  of  Chicka- 
mauga  was  fought.  The  company  of  Thomas  Rogers  had 
been  dismounted,  and,  fighting  on  foot,  had  exhibited  an 
unflinching  courage  which  won  for  them  the  highest  dis- 
tinction ;  but  they  paid  dearly  for  the  honors  they  had  ac- 
quired :  they  were  badly  cut  to  pieces ;  and  when  the  shat- 
tered army  of  Rosecrans  gained  the  shelter  of  the  works  at 
Chattanooga,  a  call  of  the  roll  revealed  the  fact  to  Captain 
Rogers  that  nearly  half  of  the  original  numbers  of  his 
men  were  missing.  What  had  become  of  them  he  knew 
full  well.  They  had  not  straggl^ed ;  they  were  not  prison- 
ers :  they  were  lying  upon  the  bloody  ground  where  they 
had  fought,  either  dead,  or  too  badly  wounded  to  crawl  from 
the  fatal  spot.  He  had  succeeded  in  securing  the  greater 
part  of  his  horses,  and  this  would  enable  him  to  mount 
such  recruits  as  might  be  willing  to  enlist  under  his  banner. 

The  presence  of  horsemen  in  Chattanooga  under  the  then 
existing  circumstances  did  not  compensate  for  the  increased 
expense  of  maintaining  them ;  and  Captain  Rogers  now 
easily  obtained  permission  to  recross  the  river  for  the  pur- 
pose of  filling  up  his  diminished  ranks. 

It  is  necessary  that  we  should  now  go  back  a  little,  in 
order  to  give  the  reader  a  clear  and  intelligent  idea  of  the 
events  about  to  be  narrated.  We  left  Captain  Sykes  lying 
wounded  in  the  house  of  Mrs.  Austin.  His  life  had  never 
been  in  danger,  but  he  suffered  greatly  for  the  first  few 
days,  and  when  the  pain  entirely  disappeared  it  left  him  as 
weak  and  helpless  as  a  child.  During  the  period  of  his 
sufferings  he  was  carefully  attended  by  Mrs.  Austin  and  her 
daughter,  one  of  whom  never  left  him.  No  other  mem- 
ber of  the  household  was  allowed  to  enter  the  room  except 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  269 

on  special  occasions,  the  pretext  being  that  he  was  too  weak 
to  bear  company  or  disturbance.  When  he  began  to  recover, 
Mrs.  Austin  seized  the  opportunity  afforded  her  to  urge  the 
fulfillment  of  his  promise  to  marry  her  daughter.  To  the 
mother's  remonstrances  were  added  the  daughter's  tears 
and  entreaties.  These  were  too  much  for  Captain  Sykes 
in  his  feeble  condition,  and  he  yielded  a  reluctant  assent, 
which  never  could  have  been  wrung  from  him  in  hours  of 
health.  Yet,  like  a  villain  as  he  was,  eve'n  when  consenting 
to  restore  the  fair  fame  of  which  he  had  deprived  her,  his 
depraved  mind  was  busy  with  a  scheme  to  render  the  pro- 
posed atonement  unavailing.  Knowing  that  the  law  re- 
quired that  a  license  should  be  obtained  from  the  probate 
judge  before  the  celebration  of  the  marriage,  he  ignorantly 
supposed  that  a  failure  to  obtain  a  license  would  invalidate 
that  marriage.  Accordingly,  he  suggested  to  Mrs.  Austin 
that  no  license  to  marry  could  then  be  obtained,  as  the 
probate  judge  had  gone  to  the  south  side  of  the  river, 
taking  with  him  the  records  of  his  court  to  prevent  them 
from  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  Federal  troops.  He 
proposed  that  if  she  was  unwilling  to  wait  until  a  license 
could  be  regularly  obtained,  she  might  send  for  a  minister 
of  the  Gospel  to  perform  the  ceremony,  and  he  pledged 
himself  that  the  license  should  be  taken  out  at  a  future 
time,  and  thus  all  the  requirements  of  the  law  would  be 
complied  with.  Mrs.  Austin  agreed  to  this  proposition, 
saying  that  she  could  not  see  how  it  was  possible  for  any- 
thing more  to  be  done  under  existing  circumstances.  The 
next  day  Sarah  herself  rode  a  distance  of  five  miles  and 
brought  back  with  her  the  clergyman  selected  to  perform 
the  ceremony.  When  it  was  over,  Mrs.  Austin,  leaving 
her  daughter  in  the  room  with  the  wounded  man,  called  the 
minister  into  an  adjoining  apartment,  and  requested  him 
to  write  a  certificate  that  he  had  that  day  united  Joseph 

24* 


270  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

Sykes  and  Sarah  Austin  in  the  "  holy  bonds  of  matrimony." 
To  this  she  appended  her  own  name  as  witness,  and,  care- 
fully folding  the  paper,  locked  it  in  her  drawer. 

All  went  well  with  Captain  Sykes  and  his  bride  for  some- 
thing more  than  a  week.  His  health  and  strength  were 
rapidly  returning,  and  he  began  to  talk  of  rejoining  his 
men,  who  had  been  ordered  to  rendezvous  at  Guntersville. 
This  purpose  had  been  delayed  day  after  day  by  his  wife, 
who  represented  that  he  was  not  strong  enough  to  undergo 
the  fatigue  of  a  day's  journey  on  horseback.  A  day  for 
his  departure  was  at  length  finally  fixed,  to  which  she  could 
not  well  urge  an  objection.  Finding  that  his  resolution 
was  taken,  his  wife  took  down  his  uniform  coat,  which  had 
been  hanging  unnoticed  in  the  room,  and  carried  it  out  to 
cleanse  it  from  blood  stains,  and  repair  the  damage  done  by 
Franklin's  bullet.  Exercising  a  wife's  privilege  to  examine 
the  pockets  of  her  spouse,  she  found  a  handkerchief,  a  pair 
of  gloves,  and  a  sealed  letter.  The  letter  was  addressed 
to  Miss  Ella  Whitlock.  Without  a  moment's  hesitation 
she  broke  the  seal,  and  read  as  follows : 

"Miss  Ella: — 

"I  hope  to  be  in  your  neighborhood  in  the  course  of  two 
weeks,  when  I  shall  certainly  call  on  you,  though  you 
would  give  me  no  encouragement  when  we  parted.  But 
times  have  changed  since  then.  I  am  a  captain  now,  and 
expect  to  be  promoted  the  first  chance  there  is.  General 
Wheeler  has  promised  me  that  I  should  be,  and  I  know 
he  will  keep  his  word.  Uncle  Jones  has  also  promised 
me  that  he  will  give  me  his  place  on  Mud  Creek  the  day  I 
am  married  to  you,  and  this,  with  what  I  have  myself,  will 
make  a  start  for  a  young  couple,  greater  than  any  other 
pair  in  the  country  ;  and,  as  soon  as  I  get  my  promotion, 
I'll  resign  and  stay  at  home  with  you.     I  hope  you  will 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  271 

not  fail  to  see  the  advantage  of  the  offer  I  make,  and  that 
we  will  meet  as  friends  who  expect  to  be  something  more 
to  each  other. 

"  I  know  that  at  the  beginning  you  were  opposed  to  our 
glorious  cause,  and  that  you  were  not  disposed  to  be 
friendly  with  our  brave  soldiers ;  but  you  were  too  young 
then  to  understand  our  rights,  and  how  the  'Yankees'  had 
invaded  our  country,  and  killed  our  men,  and  stole  our 
property,  and  insulted  our  women  without  any  cause  under 
the  .sun.  I  hope  and  believe  that  as  you  have  grown  older, 
your  first  notions  have  changed,  especially  as  your  two 
brothers  died  fighting  on  the  same  side  with  me ;  but  we 
can  talk  about  this  when  I  see  you.  So  no  more  for  the 
present,  but  that  I  love  you,  and  will  love  you  till  death. 
"Your  friend  and  faithful  lover, 

"Joseph  Sykes,  Captain  C.  S.  A." 

•  When  Sarah  had  read  this  delectable  epistle,  she  let  it 
fall  to  the  fioor,  and  sat  for  a  moment  as  if  petrified  ; 
quickly  recovering,  she  took  it  up  again,  a  faint  hope 
crossing  her  bosom  that  she  might  have  misunderstood  its 
import.  Eagerly  she  read  it  over  again  ;  but  this  second 
perusal  brought  no  comfort :  there  was  no  mistaking  the 
meaning  of  the  writer,  however  inelegantly  it  might  be  ex- 
pressed. A  deadly  pallor  spread  over  her  features,  and 
she  sank  back  into  the  chair,  from  which  she  had  risen  in 
her  excitement,  like  one  overcome  by  physical  exhaustion. 
But  at  what  frail  straws  will  not  a  woman  catch  when  the 
faith  of  her  lover  is  in  question  !  Suddenly  a  bright  color 
came  into  her  cheeks,  and  there  was  a  flash  of  joy  in  her 
eyes,  as  she  said,  aloud : 

"  He  has  put  it  there  to  try  me.  He  has  not  been  out 
of  this  house  for  three  weeks,  so  he  must  have  written  it 
here,  and  put  it  into  that  coat  where  he  knew  I'd  find  it." 


272  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

Again  the  letter  was  snatched  from  the  floor  to  look  for 
the  date.  It  had  none — nor  had  it  any  inside  address 
showing  the  place  from  which  it  was  written.  So  far  this 
was  rather  satisfactory  than  otherwise ;  but  as  her  eyes 
rested  upon  the  paper,  the  truth  flashed  upon  her  that  it 
was  of  a  different  quality,  and  a  different  size  from  any  to 
be  found  in  her  mother's  house.  She  had  herself  unpacked 
Captain  Sykes's  valise,  and  she  knew  that  it  contained  no 
writing  materials  of  any  kind.  The  paper,  therefore,  on 
which  the  letter  was  written  was  not  brought  with  him, 
and,  as  there  was  none  like  it  in  the  house,  the  letter  must 
have  been  penned  before  he  came.  She  gave  a  near  guess 
at  the  truth  when  she  concluded  that  he  had  placed  it  in 
his  pocket  after  it  was  written,  to  await  an  opportunity  of 
sending  it  to  the  lady  to  whom  it  was  addressed.  Her 
first  impulse  was  to  rush  in  and  tax  him  with  his  perfidy — 
her  next  to  show  it  to  her  mother,  and  at  least  listen  to 
her  advice  before  acting  upon  her  own  impassioned  judg- 
ment. The  letter  was  accordingly  silently  placed  in  Mrs. 
Austin's  hands  by  her  daughter,  who  dared  not  utter  a 
word  for  fear  of  revealing  the  storm  in  her  bosom.  She 
read  it  with  a  flush  of  anger  and  indignation,  but  said  no- 
thing until  her  daughter  inquired : 

"Well,  mother,  what  shall  I  do?" 

"Nothing  as  yet,"  was  the  reply.  "Let  me  think  it 
over :  I'll  keep  the  letter  and  read  it  again  when  I  am  dis-- 
engaged ;  then  I  will  give  you  my  opinion.  You  know, 
Sarah,"  she  continued,  "that  we  have  long  distrusted  him, 
and  we  ought  not  to  be  so  much  surprised  if  our  suspicions 
prove  true." 

^^  If  they  prove  true  P^  answered  Sarah,  with  marked 
emphasis.  "Mother,  they  are  true — true  beyond  a  doubt 
or  a  hope.  The  evidence  is  too  clear  for  even  a  trusting 
and  loving  heart  like  mine  to  doubt  his  guilt." 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  273 

The  bitter  misery  of  disappointed  love  was  gnawing  at 
her  heart-strings;  but  she  nerved  herself  to  play  the  hypo- 
crite for  a  time,  and,  suppressing  all  outward  emotion, 
proceeded  to  finish  the  hateful  work  of  repairing  the  uni- 
form of  the  man  she  was  beginning  to  believe  a  scoundrel 
of  the  blackest  dye. 

The  only  intercourse  between  the  husband  and  the  wife 
during  that  day  was  at  the  dinner-table.  Sarah  affected 
to  be  busy  in  assisting  her  mother  with  her  household 
duties,  and  toward  evening  she  took  one  of  the  long 
walks  to  which  she  had  been  accustomed  in  other  days, 
when  her  husband  was  her  lover  and  she  sought  his  pres- 
ence with  far  different  feelings  from  those  that  now  rioted 
in  her  bosom.  Oh  I  how  she  cursed  her  own  folly  as  she 
recalled  all  that  he  had  promised,  and  that  she  had  believed  I 
But,  like  most  human  lessons,  her  reflections  came  too  late. 

After  supper,  Mrs.  Austin  complained  of  being  unwell, 
and  retired  early  to  her  room.  Her  daughter  followed, 
saying  briefly  to  the  captain,  that  her  mother  required  at- 
tention, and  she  would  remain  with  her  during  the  night. 
The  next  morning  was  the  time  fixed  for  his  departure. 
When  ready  to  start  upon  his  journey,  he  approached  his 
wife  to  bid  her  adieu.  She  stepped  quickly  back,  at  the 
same  time  extending  the  letter  he  had  written  to  Ella 
Whitlock.  Looking  him  steadily  in  the  face,  she  said 
slowly  and  deliberately,  though  unable  to  support  herself 
without  clasping  the  back  of  a  chair : 

"I  believe,  Captain  Sykes,  that  this  letter  is  in  your 
handwriting." 

He  took  it  from  her  extended  hand,  and  glanced  at  the 
address.  If  Sarah  had  needed  further  proof  of  his  guilt, 
she  would  have  found  it  now  in  the  confusion  that  over- 
whelmed him.  His  face  turned  red,  and  white,  and  livid 
by  turns.     But  he  was  blessed  with  a  stock  of  impudent 


274  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

assurance  which  seldom  falls  to  the  lot  of  any  one  man, 
and  besides,  he  was  satisfied  in  his  own  mind  that  his  mar-, 
riage  was  a  nullity,  and  that  he  therefore  held  all  the  ad- 
vantages of  the  game  in  his  own  hands.  In  his  secret 
heart  he  was  not  sorry  to  break  off  a  connection  that  he 
was  beginning  to  regard  as  troublesome,  and  an  open 
quarrel,  began  by  herself,  afforded  a  pretext  of  which  he 
was  not  indisposed  to  avail  himself.  When  therefore  his 
momentary  confusion  had  passed  away,  he  said,  with  as- 
sumed sternness : 

"By  what  right,  madam,  have  you  ventured  to  open  a 
sealed  letter  addressed  to  another  ?  You  are  aware  that 
the  law  makes  it  a  criminal  offense  ?" 

"  The  right  of  a  wife  to  detect  the  falsehood  and  mean- 
ness of  her  husband.  The  right  of  every  one  to  expose  a 
villain.     Is  there  any  law  against  that  ?" 

"-4  wife,  Miss  Sarah  !"  he  said,  sneeringly.  "You  are 
not  yet  a  wife,  unless  some  one  else  besides  myself  has  the 
happiness  to  be  your  husband.  You  will  remember  that 
the  ceremony  between  us  was  incomplete  —  a  link  was 
missing,  which  it  depends  upon  me  to  supply,  and  your 
present  conduct  is  not  calculated  to  make  me  anxious  to 
do  so." 

"The  ceremony  was  incomplete!"  ejaculated  Sarah. 
"  Oh !  You  mean  the  want  of  a  license,  do  you  not  ?" 

"Assuredly  I  do ;  and  as  it  cannot  be  taken  out  without 
my  consent,  it  will  be  apt  to  remain  in  the  office  if  it  is  to 
bring  such  storms  as  this." 

"  Idiot  I"  she  exclaimed.  "  Idiot  as  well  as  villain  I  And 
so  you  thought  to  trick  me  with  a  false  marriage !  I  sus- 
pected as  much.  I  had  learned  to  doubt  you,  sir,  and  did 
not  scruple  to  take  advantage  of  your  ignorance — the  de- 
ceiver has  been  deceived.  I  remembered  to  have  heard 
that  in  Alabama  a  license  was  not  necessary  to  the  validity 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  275 

of  a  marriage,  and  when  Lawyer stopped  here,  some 

months  ago,  I  contrived  to  get  his  opinion  without  his  sus- 
pecting what  I  was  after.  He  said  that  a  license  was  in- 
deed provided  for  by  law,  but  the  marriage  was  not  affected 
by  it.  That  the  parties  might  be  fined  for  failing  to  apply 
for  it,  but  that  was  all.  That  marriage  was  a  civil  con- 
tract, and  was  valid  for  all  legal  purposes  if  the  parties 
only  took  each  other  by  the  hand  and  acknowledged,  in 
the  presence  of  witnesses,  that  they  were  man  and  wife.* 
And  now,  sir,  we  part  forever.  It  was  necessary  to  my 
honor  that  I  should  be  able  to  call  you  husband ;  for  that 
reason  alone  I  shall  continue  to  bear  your  name,  but  the 
same  roof  can  never  shelter  us  again.'* 

Without  another  word  or  look  she  walked  into  an  inner 
room,  followed  by  her  mother,  who  had  witnessed,  without 
uttering  a  syllable,  the  interview  which  had  just  terminated, 
but  which  her  advice  had  prevented  from  being  much  more 
stormy  and  protracted. 

Captain  Sykes  left  the  house  and  departed  on  his  journey 
in  no  pleasant  mood.  He  was  pondering  upon  the  legal 
doctrine  which,  to  his  amazement,  had  just  been  expounded 
to  him  by  bis  wife. 

"It  can't  be  true,"  he  muttered.  /'What's  the  use  of 
requiring  a  license  if  a  marriage  is  good  without  it  ?  I 
don't  believe  a  word  of  all  that  rigmarole  she  has  been 
trying  to  cram  down  my  throat.     It's  nonsense." 

But  the  idea  would  force  itself  upon  him  that  she  had 
acted  too  independently,  and  extinguished  too  decidedly 
any  hope  of  future  reconciliation  or  intercourse,  not  to  be 
herself  convinced  of  the  truth  of  what  she  had  said ;  and 
his  busy  thoughts  took  another  direction. 

*  Such  is  the  law  of  Alabama.  False  marriages  —  marriages 
gotten  up  to  deceive  either  of  the  parties — are  impossible  in  that 
State,  if  the  assent  of  both  parties  to  the  marriage  can  be  proved. 


276  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

"  If  it  is  so,  and  I'll  find  out  mighty  soon,  how  is  she  to 
prove  her  'civil  contract?'  That  preacher  will  swear  any- 
thing I  tell  him,  and  I  can  kill  off  her  mother's  evidence 
by  having  them  both  indicted  for  a  conspiracy  to  extort 
money  from  me  by  pretending  that  I  had  married  the  girl." 

Revolving  this  atrocious  scheme  in  his  mind,  and  be- 
coming more  and  more  convinced  of  its  plausibility  the 
more  he  reflected  upon  it.  Captain  Sykes  rode  on  with  an 
air  of  much  more  satisfaction  than  he  had  worn  during  the 
earlier  part  of  the  day.    Continuing  his  soliloquy,  he  said: 

"  If  I  can't  make  that  preacher  swear  outright  that  he 
never  married  us  at  all,  I  can  at  least  keep  him  out  of  the 
way,  and  that  will  do  nearly  as  well,  and  will  cost  less 
money." 

The  calculations  of  the  redoubtable  captain  certainly 
looked  plausible  enough,  but,  like  all  human  calculations, 
there  was  a  chance  for  them  to  be  based  upon  some  little 
error  of  fact,  which,  in  the  end,  would  cause  the  whole 
edifice  to  topple  over,  to  the  great  dismay  and  consterna- 
tion of  its  builder.  Captain  Sykes  did  not  know  that  the 
possibility  of  the  preacher's  being  cajoled,  or  bribed,  or 
frightened  into  a  little  false  swearing  or  a  timely  abandon- 
ment of  the  country,  had  occurred  to  Mrs.  Austin,  and  that 
she  had,  with  commendable  prudence,  provided  against 
such  a  contingency  by  taking  from  him  a  written  certificate 
of  the  marriage  on  the  spot,  which  completely  foiled  both 
of  the  captain's  contemplated  moves.  If  he  had  known 
that  she  was  in  possession  of  that  bit  of  paper,  it  would 
not  have  been  long  before  her  house  w^ould  have  been  sub- 
jected to  a  rigid  examination.  But  he  did  not  know  it  or 
suspect  it,  and  in  truth  if  he  had  known  it,  he  would  not 
have  profited  by  it ;  for  Mrs.  Austin  was  fully  aware  that 
he  was  capable  of  anything  that  was  mean  and  villainous, 
and  in  less  than  an  hour  after  his  departure,  the  precious 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  277 

paper  was  removed  from  the  house  and  securely  hidden  in 
a  place  where  discovery  was  next  to  impossible. 

The  captain  had  announced  his  purpose  to  rejoin  his 
men  at  Guntersville,  but  his  horse's  head  was  not  turned 
in  that  direction,  nor  did  he  have  the  least  intention  of 
going  there  for  the  present.  On  the  contrary,  he  rode 
directly  for  his  uncle's  house.  It  was  a  hard  day's  journey, 
but  the  captain  wes  well  mounted  and  his  horse  well  rested, 
so  that  he  arrived  at  his  destination  by  nightfall.  When 
the  evening  meal  was  finished  and  the  house  clear  of  ser- 
vants, he  drew  his  chair  close  to  his  uncle,  and  in  a  low 
voice  related  all  that  had  happened  to  him  within  the  past 
three  weeks,  coloring,  but  not  falsifying,  the  truth.  That 
worthy  relative  fully  sympathized  with  his  trials  and  his 
sufferings,  and  highly  approved  of  the  abominable  plan  he 
had  formed  to  free  himself  from  the  difiiculties  which  his 
marriage  had  brought  upon  him.  He  also  informed  him 
that  there  were  a  number  of  scattered  bands  of  Confederate 
soldiers  in  the  county,  with  some  of  which  he  was  in  con- 
stant communication.  He  represented  that  by  placing 
himself  at  the  head  of  these  men,  as  his  rank  entitled  him 
to  do,  his  nephew  would  soon  be  in  command  of  a  more 
formidable  body  than  that  he  had  lost.  Nothing  could 
have  been  more  acceptable  to  his  nephew  than  the  policy 
suggested  by  his  uncle,  and  he  went  to  bed  that  night  re- 
volving plans  of  vengeance,  of  whose  fulfillment  he  already 
felt  secure.  The  very  next  day  he  contrived  to  open  com- 
munications with  several  different  squads  of  the  rebels,  and 
sent  word  to  others  of  his  desire  to  meet  them.  On  their 
part  they  were  glad  enough  to  shelter  themselves  under 
the  orders  of  an  officer  of  his  rank.  It  was  a  security 
against  any  inquiry  into  their  misdeeds,  and  saved  them 
from  the  probabilities  of  a  trial  for  desertion  if  General 
Bragg  should  retake  Chattanooga,  and  capture  or  drive 

25 


278  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

the  army  of  General  Rosecrans  back  to  Nashville,  and 
from  thence  across  the  Ohio,  an  event  at  that  time  deemed 
but  too  probable  by  many  citizens  besides  secessionists 
and  their  sympathizers.  Captain  Sykes  found  no  diflBculty 
therefore  in  collecting  a  troop  formidable  to  that  unpro- 
tected country,  and  which  would  have  been  formidable  to 
any  force  which  would  be  likely  to  be  brought  against  him 
if  they  had  not  been  wholly  demoralized  by  the  unbridled 
license  to  which  they  were  accustomed.  When  this  had 
been  arranged  to  his  satisfaction,  he  called  at  the  house  of 
Mrs.  Whitlock.  Ella  was  not  at  home ;  the  answer  would 
have  been  the  same  if  she  had  been,  but  the  captain  did 
not  know  that,  or  indeed  suspect  it. 

He  had  found  that  his  uniform  was  possessed  of  magical 
qualities  among  such  women  as  he  had  been  allowed  to  visit, 
and  he  confidently  believed  that  its  influence,  whenever  he 
chose  to  call  it  into  requisition,  would  be  equally  irresist- 
ible with  the  whole  sex.  But  notwithstandiog  his  igno- 
rant and  impudent  confidence,  he  did  not  neglect  to  pre- 
pare the  way  for  a  favorable  reception  when  his  next  call 
should  be  made,  by  making  a  parade  of  protecting  the  prop- 
erty of  Mrs.  Whitlock,  and  publicly  uttering  hypocritical 
lamentations  over  the  damage  done  by  the  soldiers  before 
his  arrival  in  the  neighborhood.  He  declared  that  here- 
after ngthing  should  be  taken  from  the  citizens  but  what 
was  absolutely  necessary,  and  that  even  in  such  cases  the 
impressment — as  he  called  it — should  be  strictly  confined 
to  those  who  were  known  to  be  disloyal  to  the  Confederacy 
and  possessed  a  surplus  from  which  they  could  part  with- 
out danger  of  suffering. 

In  the  mean  time  many  loyal  citizens,  disheartened  by  the 
battle  of  Chickamauga,  and  dreading  the  fall  of  Chatta- 
nooga, were  secretly  disposing  of  their  effects  and  pre- 
paring to  abandon  their  homes  before  a  new  swarm   of 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  279 

locusts  should  be  turned  loose  upon  them.  Confederate 
money  being  worthless  in  the  land  to  which  their  hegira 
must  be  directed,  they  resorted  to  a  system  of  barter — ex- 
changing their  household  goods,  and  such  other  articles  as 
they  could  not  take  with  them,  for  bacon,  corn,  horses  and 
cattle,  which  were  smuggled  into  Stevenson  at  night,  and 
readily  sold  for  fair  and  even  high  prices  to  the  Union 
garrison  at  that  place.  Matters  were  in  this  condition 
when  Thomas  Rogers  arrived  at  Stevenson.  The  whole 
story  of  the  condition  of  the  country,  bad  enough  in  itself, 
with  many  an  exaggeration  arising  from  the  fears  of  his 
informers,  was  quickly  reported  to  him  by  those  who  had 
come  in  to  dispose  of  their  provisions,  etc.  Sending  out 
scouts  to  obtain  more  accurate  and  reliable  information,  he 
remained  at  this  point  for  several  days  to  rest  his  horses 
and  obtain  all  the  recruits  he  could  from  among  the  out- 
raged citizens. 

James  Miller  had  accompanied  his  commander  to  the 
south  side  of  the  river,  but  his  wounds  did  not  allow  him  to 
take  part  in  the  rough  service  to  which  his  company  had 
been  ordered.  He  now  declared  himself  fit  for  duty,  and 
assumed  his  place  as  first  lieutenant  of  the  troop.  We 
neglected  to  say  that  an  election  had  been  held  for  second 
lieutenant  previous  to  their  joining  the  main  army.  The 
choice  fell  upon  Tobias  Wilson,  who  promptly  declined  it, 
declaring  that  he  was  only  an  unattached  volunteer,  who 
might  prefer  to  join  some  other  company,  and  leave  them 
at  any  time.  John  Franklin  was  then  elected  by  acclama- 
tion, and  had  since  discharged  his  duties  so  faithfully  and 
untiringly  as  to  command  the  unbounded  confidence  of  his 
captain.  Neither  of  the  three  officers  were  idle  or  neglect- 
ful of  any  fair  means  to  obtain  volunteers  ;  and  by  the  time  ■ 
Captain  Rogers  judged  that  his  horses  were  sufficiently 
rested,  they  had  secured  fifteen  additional  members  to  the 


280  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

company.  In  less  than  a  week,  Captain  Rogers,  with 
sixty-five  effective  men,  set  out  on  an  expedition  to  try 
conclusions  once  more  with  his  old  enemy,  who  was  known 
to  have  collected  a  force  nearly  double  his  own. 

Tobias  Wilson  had  remained  in  Chattanooga,  as  a  volun- 
teer aid  on  the  staff  of  a  general  ofiBcer,  who  had  been  par- 
ticularly attracted  by  the  desperate  valor  he  had  exhibited 
at  Chickamauga,  and  the  skill  and  coolness  with  which  he 
had  aided  his  brother-in-law  in  conducting  his  men  from 
that  dreadful  field  when  the  battle  was  irretrievably  lost. 
While  here  he  received  a  letter  from  his  wife,  advising  him 
of  numerous  others  which  had  been  mailed  to  him,  but 
which  had  never  been  received.  She  communicated  to 
him  the  not  altogether  unexpected  intelligence  of  the  mar- 
riage of  his  mother  to  Mr.  Rogers.  She  described  the 
home  they  had  selected  as  beautiful  in  the  extreme.  They 
were  surrounded,  she  said,  with  every  comfort  that  could 
be  desired  ;  and  she  declared  that  nothing  was  wanting  to 
their  compfete  happiness  but  his  presence  among  them. 
Then  there  was  a  whole  page  of  those  fond  and  endearing 
expressions,  which  flow  so  gracefully  and  appropriately 
from  the  pen  of  a  young  wife,  who  is  separated  for  the  first 
time  from  the  husband  of  her  choice.  He  spread  the  open 
letter  upon  the  table,  and  leaned  his  bowed  head  upon  it. 

"I  cannot  go,"  he  murmured.  "Would  to  God  that  I 
could.  But  I  cannot  go.  I've  many  a  battle  yet  to  fight, 
and  many  a  danger  yet  to  encounter,  before  that  loved  face 
will  shine  upon  me  again.  When  that  happy  hour  does 
come,  let  me,  0  God,  be  still  worthy  of  all  her  love,  and 
trust,  and  confidence  !  But  yet  I  doubt  myself — I  tremble 
lest  the  day  should  come  when  I  shall  be  found  seeking  the 
life  of  a  foeman  in  other  places  than  on  the  field  of  battle, 
and  from  other  motives  than  patriotism.  I  would  not  go 
with  Thomas,  because  I  feared  I  should  witness  scenes  that 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  281 

would  turn  my  blood  to  fire.     I  have  seen  enough  of  these 
ah'eady. " 

And  so  Tobias  Wilson  remained  with  the  beleaguered 
army  of  General  Rosecrans,  where  his  services  indeed  were 
of  far  more  value  than  they  could  have  been  as  a  private 
soldier  in  his  brother-in-law's  company.  The  future  had 
in  store  for  him  scenes  of  suffering  more  dreadful  than 
those  that  he  now  shrank  from  gazing  upon,  as  well  as 
individual  trials  and  adventures  which  would  tax  all  his 
mental  resources  and  all  the  physical  powers  he  so  abund- 
antly possessed.  But,  as  yet,  these  were  hidden  from  his 
knowledge,  and  in  the  active  employments  his  position 
imposed  upon  him,  he  found  little  time  to  indulge  in  vague 
speculations  upon  the  future. 

The  arrival  of  Captain  Rogers  at  Stevenson  was  soon 
widely  known  throughout  the  country.  Citizens  claiming 
to  be  loyal,  but  who  were  in  fact  rebel  spies,  were  daily 
visitors  at  the  post.  In  twenty-four  hours  Captain  Sykes 
received  notice,  not  only  of  his  coming,  but  of  the  exact 
number  and  condition  of  his  troops.  His  own  scattered 
squads  were  promptly  called  in,  and  his  encampment  re- 
moved twenty  miles  to  the  westward.  This  step  was  not 
dictated  by  fear.  He  firmly  believed  himself  capable  of 
crushing  his  enemy  whenever  he  moved  beyond  the  support 
of  the  infantry  at  Stevenson  ;  but  forage  was  getting  scarce 
where  he  was,  (except  such  as  was  in  possession  of  his 
friends,)  and  it  would  soon  become  necessary  to  send  out 
small  parties  to  a  considerable  distance  to  obtain  it.  In 
the  immediate  vicinity  of  an  active  and  enterprising  enemy 
these  parties  would  be  in  great  danger  of  being  cut  off,  and 
his  command  thereby  gradually  so  much  weakened  that  he 
would  be  compelled  to  fight  on  equal  or  nearly  equal  terms, 
or'  else  adopt  the  humiliating  alternative  of  retreating  be- 
yond the  Tennessee  River.     He  had  another  motive.     He 

25* 


282  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

calculated  upon  defeating  Rogers's  small  force  with  ease ; 
and  he  wished  to  draw  him  as  far  as  possible  from  any 
place  of  retreat,  so  as  to  make  the  rout  of  the  Union  sol- 
diers more  bloody  and  complete.  The  population  in  the 
country  through  which  he  must  advance  was,  for  the  most 
part,  hostile  to  Rogers ;  and  Captain  Sykes  did  not  doubt 
that,  if  he  could  succeed  in  compelling  his  foe  to  a  hasty 
and  disorderly  retreat,  many  of  his  soldiers  would  be  mur- 
dered by  rebel  citizens,  whom  he  knew  to  possess  con- 
cealed arms,  which  they  would  not  hesitate  to  use  when 
they  could  so  easily  conceal  a  murder  by  charging  it  upon 
the  pursuing  Confederates.  In  one  thing  only  was  Cap- 
tain Sykes's  information  incomplete.  He  knew  nothing  of 
the  recruits  that  Rogers  had  obtained  at  Stevenson.  These 
men  had  come  in  at  night,  and  during  the  daytime  were 
purposely  so  distributed  as  not  to  excite  observation.  Be- 
fore entering  the  place,  Captain  Rogers  had  also  dispatched 
four  of  his  most  trusty  men  to  watch  the  movements  of 
the  enemy,  and  report  to  him  night  after  night.  Captain 
Sykes's  estimate  of  his  (Rogers's)  effective  force,  therefore, 
was  too  small  by  nineteen  men — a  very  considerable  item 
in  a  body  of  that  size.  When  his  encampment  was  removed 
westward,  Rogers  was  not  quite  ready  to  follow.  His 
horses  were  not  sufficiently  rested,  and  he  still  hoped  to 
obtain  other  recruits,  at  least  for  the  temporary  purpose 
of  destroying  the  guerrillas  who  had  made  such  havoc  in 
the  country.  Xor  was  he  mistaken.  Ten  others  joined 
him,  with  the  understanding  that  they  should  be  permitted 
to  return  to  their  homes  as  soon  as  this  desirable  object 
was  accomplished.  They  were  men  past  the  middle  age 
of  life,  and  unfit  for  protracted  military  service,  but  for 
an  expedition  of  this  sort  they  were  quite  as  effective  as 
younger  men.  Moreover,  all  of  them  had  been  robbed, 
and  some  of  them  had  their  houses  burned  over  their  heads; 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  283 

SO  that  to  the  demands  of  patriotism  were  added  the  fires 
of  revenge,  and  they  were  likely  to  prove  dangerous  adver- 
saries in  an  encounter  with  their  oppressors. 

The  place  chosen  by  Captain  Sykes  for  his  encampment 
was  a  wooded  hill,  surrounded  by  a  level  country,  which 
was  inhabited  almost  entirely  by  bitter  and  violent  seces- 
sionists— men  who  would  stickle  at  nothing  to  injure  the 
cause  of  the  Union,  and  shrink  from  no  means,  however 
base,  that  gave  promise  of  destroying  its  defenders.  Un- 
like their  fellows  in  the  richer  counties,  they  were  always 
ready  to  contribute  whatever  surplus  they  might  have  on 
hand,  and  even  more  than  they  could  spare,  for  the  support 
of  the  rebels.  Captain  Sykes  was  thus  enabled  to  keep 
his  men  together,  and  prepared  to  act  at  a  moment's  notice. 
He  was  soon  advised  that  Rogers  was  in  motion,  and  readily 
conjectured  that  a  collision  must  take  place.  The  accounts 
he  now  received  of  the  force  he  had  to  encounter,  though 
still  leaving  him  a  large  numerical  Majority,  varied  so  much 
from  the  reports  brought  to  him  from  Stevenson,  that  he 
could  not  believe  them,  —  attributing  the  variance  to  the 
exaggerated  estimates  of  the  inexperienced  citizens  he  had 
employed  in  the  place  of  regular  scouts.  Still,  he  had 
been  taught  a  bitter  lesson  at  Mulford's,  and  nothing  that 
prudence  could  suggest  was  neglected.  The  naturally 
strong  position  he  had  taken  was  rendered  still  stronger 
by  hastily  throwing  up  a  breastwork  of  logs  and  dirt, 
which  was  sufficient  to  render  an  attack  upon  it,  by  an 
enemy  without  artillery,  extremely  hazardous.  Thus  pre- 
pared, either  to  issue  from  his  works  if  he  found  himself 
sufficiently  strong,  or  refuse  to  fight,  unless  it  was  with 
fearful  odds  in  his  favor,  he  awaited  the  coming  of  an  ad- 
versary whose  impetuosity  of  temper  he  well  knew,  and 
whose  reckless  daring  he  thought  would  be  sure  to  give 
a  cooler  opponent  material  advantages. 


284  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

His  secession  friends  were  constantly  on  the  alert,  and 
as  constantly  in  communication  with  him;    but  notwith- 
standing their  watchful  alertness,  John  Franklin,  with  two 
of  his  troopers,  had  succeeded  in  making  a  thorough  re- 
connoissance  of  his  encampment.     It  was  only  a  few  miles 
from  the  residence  of  Franklin's  mother;  he  knew  every 
foot  of  the  ground,  and  was  acquainted  with  the  political 
bias  of  every  inhabitant.     He  had  thus  been  enabled  to 
obtain  a  position  from  which,  with  the  aid  of  a  good  field 
glass,  he  could  note  every  preparation  that  had  been  made, 
and  estimate  with  almost  perfect  accuracy  the  exact  num- 
ber of  the  rebels.    He  concluded  that  they  must  be  at  least 
one  hundred  and  twenty  strong;  and  with  this  report  he 
returned,  as  he  supposed,  unobserved.     But  one  eye  had 
seen  him,  and  that  one,  as  he  was  ignorant  of  what  had 
transpired  during  his  absence,  was  the  very  last  to  which 
he  would  have  willingly  shown  himself.     It  had  become 
necessary  for  him  to  cboss  the  open  field  to  the  south  of 
Mrs.  Austin's  house.     He  had  calculated  upon  riding  the 
greater  part  of  the  night  and  passing  the  place  before 
daybreak,  but  the  darkness  of  the  night  and  the  roughness 
of  the  road  had  so  obstructed  his  journey  that  a  broad 
light  streaked  the  east  before  he  arrived  at  the  border  of 
the  timber  which  skirted  the  old  field.     Pausing  in  the 
edge  of  the  wood,  he  examined  the  house  with  his  glass; 
seeing  no  signs  of  life,  and  finding  that  the  doors  and  rude 
window-shutters  were  all  closed,  he  concluded  that  the 
family  were  still  asleep,  and  that  rapid  riding  would  enable 
him  to  cross  the  open  space  unobserved.     But  Sarah  had 
risen,  and  started  to  the  spring  for  a  pail  of  water,  closing 
the  door  behind  her  to   prevent  her  mother  from  being 
wakened  at  that  early  hour.     On  the  way  she  heard  the 
tramp  of  horses?  feet,  and  hiding  herself  behind  the  rocks 
and  bushes,  carefully  looked  out  to  ascertain  whether  they 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  285 

were  friends-«r  enemies.  Kiding  a  little  in  advance  of  his 
two  comrades,  she  recognized  the  form  of  John  Franklin. 
His  features  could  not  be  distinguished,  but  for  her  there 
was  no  mistaking  that  figure,  and  she  turned  deadly  pale 
as  the  thought  of  their  last  interview  came  back  upon  her. 
She  remembered  his  very  words  ;  the  very  tone  and  manner 
in  which  they  had  been  spoken ;  and  it  seemed  to  her  now 
as  if  a  funeral  knell  was  ringing  in  her  ears.  She  filled 
her  pail  mechanically  from  the  spring  and  returned  to  the 
house.  Her  mother  had  not  yet  risen,  and  she  set  about 
preparing  the  family  breakfast,  but  her  thoughts  were  upon 
far  other  things. 

What  should  she  do?  what  ought  she  to  do?  what 
could  she  do  ?  were  questions  continually  recurring  to 
her  mind,  and  to  which  she  could  find  no  satisfactory 
answer.  Up  to  this  hour,  she  believed  that  she  had  ceased 
to  love  Captain  Sykes ;  nay,  more,  she  had  persuaded 
herself  that  she  hated  him.  When  called  upon  to  sign  her 
name  as  Sarah  Sykes,  she  almost  invariably  felt  her  lips 
curl  with  scorn,  and  bitterly  did  she  mourn  the  necessity 
which  compelled  her  to  retain  it.  But  love  does  not  die 
so  easily,  and  was  there  still,  in  despite  of  her  strong  will, 
in  despite  of  her  reason,  and  in  despite  of  the  unanswerable 
proofs  she  had  of  his  baseness,  and  her  fears  of  the  villainy 
he  might  resort  to  in  the  future.  She  shuddered  at  the 
danger  that  was  hanging  over  him,  and  felt  a  partial  return 
of  the  old  tenderness  that  once  would  have  led  her  to 
sacrifice  her  own  life  for  his.  Still,  she  could  decide  upon 
nothing,  and  impatiently  waited  for  the  time  when  the 
other  members  of  the  family  would  leave  her  alone  with 
her  mother.  When  the  opportunity  at  last  came  she  found, 
to  her  chagrin,  that  Mrs.  Austin  had  little  sympathy  with 
her  feelings.  To  her,  it  seemed  that  the  death  of  Captain 
Sykes  could  bring  to  her  daughter  nothing  but  blessings. 


286  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

She  had  heartily  approved  of  the  harsh  and  decided  terms 
in  which  Sarah  had  informed  him  that  all  connection 
between  them,  save  the  legal  bond  which  she  could  not 
sever  without  disgrace  to  herself,  was  at  an  end.  She 
could  not  bring  herself  to  look  upon  him  in  any  other 
light  than  as  a  base,  hypocritical,  and  dangerous  man, 
by  whom  any  villainy  would  be  practiced  without  scruple 
if  it  promised  to  accomplish  his  ends,  and  upon  whom  any 
solicitude  for  his  safety  shown  by  her  daughter  would  be 
wasted,  even  if  he  did  not  regard  it  as  an  evidence  of  an 
infatuated  love,  which  would  in  the  end  lead  her  to 
acquiesce  in  all  that  he  required.  She  feared,  too,  that  he 
might  persuade,  or,  failing  in  that,  provoke  Sarah  to  say 
or  do  something  of  which  he  could  take  advantage.  It 
was  decidedly  her  opinion  that  John  Franklin  would  do 
the  country  in  general,  and  her  daughter  in  particular,  an 
especial  favor  by  ridding  the  world  of  such  a  miscreant. 
Sarah  argued  and  pleaded  in  vain ;  her  mother  was  in- 
flexible, and  the  unfortunate  young  woman  was  forced  to 
take  counsel  of  her  own  heart  alone.  It  was  long  past 
mid-day  before  she  was  enabled  to  arrive  at  any  conclusion, 
and  even  then  she  was  almost  distracted  by  conflicting 
emotions.  Of  herself  she  could  do  nothing  to  ward  off 
the  danger  from  a  husband  whose  life  or  death  she  believed 
the  day  before  to  be  a  matter  of  indifference  to  her  Tlie 
only  plan  that  appeared  at  all  feasible  was  to  give  him 
notice  that  his  life  was  threatened,  and  thus  supply  him 
with  a  motive  to  avoid  any  exposure  of  his  person,  save 
that  he  would  be  compelled  to  make  in  the  event  of  a  fight 
between  his  own  and  any  body  of  Federal  troops. 

To  do  this  it  was  necessary  to  go  in  person  to  his  camp, 
which  was  about  seven  miles  distant.  She  had  no  one  to 
send,  except  her  little  brother,  whom  she  was  scarcely 
willing  to  trust  with  such  a  message  herself,  and  who,  she 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  ,  287 

was  afraid,  her  mother  would  not  allow  to  be  sent  on  any 
errand  to  the  camp  of  her  husband.    Proceeding,  therefore, 
to  the  stable,  without  a  word  to  any  one,  she  saddled  a 
horse,  and,  leaving  the  inclosure  by  the  back  way,  rode  off 
at  a  smart  pace  on   her   errand  of  love,  which  she  had 
endeavored  to  persuade  herself  was  only  a  duty  that,  as  a 
wife,  she  was  bound  to  perform.     Perhaps  she  was  right, 
but  none  save  a  loving  woman  would  have  thought  so. 
Upon  nearing  the  camp  she  was  of  course  halted  by  the 
pickets,  to  whom  she  said  that  she  was  the  wife  of  Captain 
Sykes,  and  the  bearer  of  a  message  upon  which  his  life 
might  depend.     The  soldiers  had  heard  a  different  story, 
but  even  the  mistress  of  their  captain  was,  in  their  eyes, 
entitled  to  a  certain  degree  of  respectful  obedience,  and 
one  of  them  promptly  offered  to  conduct  her  to  his  quarters. 
When    the    captain    observed   who    his   visitor   was,   he 
imagined  that  she  had  come  to  seek  a  reconciliation,  and 
as  it  suited  him  well  enough  to  be  upon  good  terms  with 
her  until  his  plans  were  matured,  and  he  had  more  leisure 
to  attend  to  his  private  affairs,  he  approached  her  with 
apparent  cordiality,  and  proffered  her  his  hand.     She  did 
not  seem  to  see  it,  and  did  not  notice  his  greeting.     There 
were  many  soldiers  lounging  about,  who  could  see  the 
actions  but  could  not  hear  the  words  of  the  parties.     Her 
rejection  of  his  offered  hand  could  not  fail  to  be  observed 
by  them,  and  Captain  Sykes's  face  was  flushed  with  anger 
as  he  asked : 

"  Have  you  only  come  here,  3Iiss  Sarah,  to  insult  me  in 
the  presence  of  my  men  ?" 

"  I  came  here  from  no  such  feeling,  but  to  warn  you  that 
John  Franklin  is  in  this  county,  and  to  remind  you  that 
your  life  is  in  great  danger." 

"Is  that  all?"  was  the  sneering  reply.  '*  If  so,  you 
might  have  saved  yourself  the  trouble  of  the  ride  you  have 


288  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

taken.  I  knew  two  weeks  ago  that  he  was  in  the  county, 
claiming  to  be  a  lieutenant  in  the  company  of  that  arch- 
traitor,  Thomas  Rogers.  One-half  of  his  associates  are 
deserters  from  our  army,  and,  unless  I  am  mistaken,  we 
shall  have  a  good  time  before  long  in  hanging  the  rascals, 
Franklin  included." 

"But  Franklin,"  she  persisted,  "is  not  only  in  the  county; 
he  is  now  lurking  around  this  very  encampment." 

"Impossible!"  replied  Sykes.  "He  is  known  to  every 
man  in  this  neighborhood,  and  could  not  remain  here  three 
hours  without  being  detected  and  reported  to  me." 

"  But  I  saw  him  this  morning  with  my  own  eyes  riding  in 
this  direction.  You  are  the  best  judge  how  near  he  can 
approach,  and  how  far  his  rifle  may  prove  dangerous.  But 
of  this  you  may  be  certain,  he  is  not  far  from  you,  and  his 
purpose  is  deadly." 

"This  news,"  answered  the  captain,  musing,  "is  worth 
something,  if  it  proves  no  more  than  that  my  friends  are 
careless,  and  I  thank  you  for  it.  I  thank  you  the  more 
because  we  did  not  part  good  friends.  I  hope  all  that  is 
over,  and  that  hereafter  we  shall  meet  on  better  terms. 
Shall  we  not?" 

"No,  sir,"  she  replied;  "we  can  never  meet  even  as 
friends.  At  the  time  you  were  making  vows  of  love  to 
me  which  you  never  felt,  and  promises  of  marriage  you 
never  intended  to  keep,  you  were  endeavoring  to  bribe 
another  to  become  your  wife,  and  in  the  very  room  where 
you  gave  me  your  hand  at  the  altar,  you  had  in  your 
pocket  a  written  offer  of  that  hand  to  one  who,  it  seems, 
had  little  inclination  to  accept  it ;  and  then  you  tried  to 
deceive  me  by  a  base  device,  which  was  only  not  successful 
because  your  knowledge  of  the  law  was  not  equal  to  the 
vileness  of  your  intentions.  It  was  from  no  feeling  of 
kindness  that  I  have  given  you  this  warning ;  I  have  sim- 
ply discharged  my  duty  as  your  wife." 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  289 

"Wife  !"  he  repeated  with  a  sneer.  "The  day  is  far 
distant  when  you  will  have  the  right  to  bear  my  name.  It 
will  be  better  for  you  to  dismiss  that  delusion  from  your 
mind ;  it  will  only  bring  trouble  upon  you." 

She  turned  her  horse's  head  homeward,  (she  had  not  dis- 
mounted,) only  muttering  between  her  closed  teeth  the 
single  word  "wretch  !" 

Two  days  later,  Thomas  Rogers  had  approached  within 
two  miles  of  the  Confederate  encampment.  He  knew  the 
temper  of  his  own  men  thoroughly,  and  would  willingly 
have  risked  them  against  greater  odds  than  Captain  Sykes 
had  at  his  disposal.  The  larger  part  of  them  had  been 
tried  by  greater  dangers  than  were  to  be  apprehended  from 
the  plunderers  he  was  seeking  to  encounter.  Although 
they  outnumbered  him  in  the  proportion  of  three  to  two, 
he  calculated  rightly  that  such  men  must  soon  give  way 
before  the  cool  and  steady  courage  of  his  own  disciplined 
troops — troops  who  had  unflinchingly  faced  the  withering 
volleys  and  desperate  charges  of  the  Confederate  veterans 
at  Chickamauga.  He  felt  confident  that  the  demoralized 
robbers,  who,  notwithstanding  their  superiority  in  num- 
bers, were  now  skulking  behind  breastworks  too  formidable 
to  be  attacked  by  light  troops  without  the  aid  of  artillery, 
would  be  swept  away  like  chaff  before  the  wind  if  they 
could  be  brought  face  to  face  with  his  small  but  gallant 
and  devoted  band.  But  how  was  this  to  be  accomplished  ? 
If  he  drew  up  on  the  plain  before  them,  they  would  not 
leave  the  shelter  of  their  works,  and  he  would  accomplish 
nothing  beyond  exposing  his  own  strength,  of  which  he 
was  satisfied  they  were  in  some  degree  ignorant.  He 
could  not  starve  them  out,  for  they  were  far  better  supplied 
than  he  was  ;  nor  did  he  entertain  a  hope  of  being  able 
to  surprise  an  unguarded  point,  either  by  day  or  by  night. 
He  had  taught  Captain  Sykes  the  value  of  vigilance,  and 

26 


290  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

the  reports  of  his  scouts  convinced  him  that  the  lesson  had 
not  been  thrown  away.  There  was  no  approach  to  the 
encampment  that  was  not  vigilantly  guarded,  and  even 
while  Rogers  was  yet  at  a  distance  he  learned  that  the 
men  habitually  slept  on  their  arms  immediately  behind  their 
intrenchments.  Their  horses,  too,  were  kept  constantly 
in  readiness  for  any  emergency.  In  this  perplexity  he  re- 
solved to  reconnoitre  the  position  himself,  giving  orders 
to  Miller  to  move  the  command  to  a  more  eligible  point, 
about  a  half  mile  nearer  to  the  enemy.  He  found  the 
rebels  more  strongly  posted  than  his  scouts  had  reported, 
and  the  idea  of  storming  their  works  at  night,  which  had 
several  times  flitted  through  his  mind,  was  at  once  aban- 
doned. 

That  night,  when  all  but  the  pickets  and  sentries  were 
buried  in  profound  repose,  three  men  were  seated  by  a  log- 
fire,  near  the  center  of  the  Union  encampment,  in.  earnest 
consultation.  They  were  Captain  Rogers,  Lieutenants 
Miller  and  Franklin.  At  the  moment,  Captain  Rogers 
was  speaking.  It  seemed  to  be  in  reply  to  something  sug- 
gested by  one  of  his  officers. 

"I  tell  you,  no  1  They  will  not  come  out.  They  are 
frightened  now,  and  more  than  half  whipped ;  if  we  could 
only  get  at  them.  The  question  is,  how  are  we  to  do 
that  ?" 

"Do  you  think,"  answered  Miller,  thoughtfully,  "that 
he  knows  how  many  men  we've  got  here  ?" 

"I  cannot  tell,"  replied  the  captain.  "I  know  that  he 
was  deceived  as  to  our  numbers  when  we  left  Stevenson, 
but  he  may  have  learned  better  within  the  last  two  days. 
We  have  been  during  that  time  surrounded  by  his  spies, 
and  though  no  pains  have  been  spared  to  keep  them  at  a 
distance,  they  may  have  been  more  successful  than  we  think 
in  ascertaining  our  present  strength." 


TOBIAS     WILSOX.  291 

"If  I  was  only  certain,"  was  his  lieutenant's  reply,  "on 
that  point,  I  think  I  could  fix  it." 

" How  ?     Let  me  hear  your  plan." 

"We  could  then  show  about  that  number  while  the  rest 
were  placed  in  ambush  in  the  woods.  By  making  out  as  if 
we  meant  to  pass  him,  he  would  be  sure  to  leave  his  camp, 
thinking  to  crush  us  by  a  single  charge.  We  could  then 
fall  back,  fighting,  until  we  had  drawn  him  into  the  am- 
bush; and  then,  good-by  to  Captain  Sykes  and  his  guer- 
rillas.    If  we  can  only  get  them  out,  not  twenty  will  ever 

escape." 

"By  the  Lord !"  exclaimed  Rogers,  "your  plan  is  ad- 
mirable I  We  will  try  it,  anyhow ;  if  it  fails  to  draw  him 
from  his  cover,  we  will  be  no  worse  off  than  we  were.  How 
many  men  have  we?"  • 

"Eighty-two,  besides  ourselves." 

"And  he  has,  you  say,  Franklin,  not  more  than  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty-five  ?" 

"I  should  say,"  said  Franklin,  "in  the  neighborhood  of 
one  hundred  and  twenty.  I  examined  them  for  three  hours, 
horses,  saddles,  and  men,  and  though  I  could  not  count 
them,  I'm  a  pretty  good  judge  in  such  matters.  I'll  bet 
my  horse  that  it  is  not  more  than  five  men  either  way  from 
one  hundred  and  twenty." 

"  That  gives  him,"  said  Rogers,  "  about  three  to  our  two. 
We've  faced  worse  odds  against  better  soldiers,  and  can 
beat  him  easily  in  an  open  fight,  without  the  help  of  the 
ambush ;  but  that  will  save  the  lives  of  some  of  our  men, 
and  make  his  discomfiture  more  complete.  Have  the  men 
quietly  roused  two  hours  before  day.  We  must  have  every- 
thing prepared  before  it  is  light.  Tell  the  officer  of  the 
guard,  Franklin,  to  have  us  up  betimes." 

John  Franklin  went  upon  his  errand,  and  the  other  two, 
spreading  their  blankets,  on  which  they  had  been  seated, 


292  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

before  the  fire,  stretched  themselves  upon  them,  and  were 
fast  asleep,  even  before  Franklin's  return. 

At  the  time  designated,  fhe  three  officers  went  among 
the  men,  without  noise  of  any  kind,  and,  passing  from  the 
smouldering  ashes  of  one  camp-fire  to  another,  awakened 
the  men,  and  bade  them  prepare  for  an  immediate  march. 
At  the  same  time  the  pickets  were  being  called  in,  no 
lights  were  allowed,  and  the  strictest  silence  was  enjoined 
upon  all.  A  careful  count  was  made  to  see  if  the  whole 
troop  was  present.  They  then  moved  off  at  a  walk, 
Rogers  leading,  with  Miller  by  his  side.  At  the  place 
which  had  been  designated  for  the  formation  of  the  am- 
bush, the  troop  was  halted,  and  forty-four  men  were  counted 
off,  who  were  to  accompany  Captain  Rogers,  while  the  re- 
mainder were  divided  and  posted  in  the  wood,  on  either 
side  of  the  road,  by  Miller  and  Franklin.  To  save  the 
strength  of  their  horses  as  much  as  possible,  the  men  dis- 
mounted, and  for  the  most  part  seated  themselves  upon  the 
ground,  waiting  the  appearance  of  daylight.  Here,  also, 
each  man  was  individually  made  acquainted  with  the  plan 
of  the  officers,  thus  rendering  a  mistake  in  its  execution 
almost  impossible. 

It  was  broad  daylight  when  Rogers  moved  his  little  com- 
mand of  forty-four  men  from  the  shelter  of  the  timber,  in 
full  view  of  the  rebel  encampment.  He  was  greeted  by  a 
fire  from  a  picket  guard,  which  was  not  returned,  but  he 
could  see  that  the  whole  camp  had  been  aroused,  and  active 
operations  of  some  kind  were  going  on  within.  He  had 
left  the  timber  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile  nearer  to  the 
enemy  than  the  place  where  the  ambush  was  posted,  and, 
as  he  moved  leisurely  over  the  open  country  and  through 
the  cultivated  fields,  continued  to  keep  his  men  in  a  posi- 
tion where  he  could  easily  gain  the  timber  without  risking 
the  probability  of  his  small  band  being  ridden  down  by  over- 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  293 

whelming  numbers.  At  first,  Captain  Sykes  hesitated  to 
pursue,  but  as  the  force  before  him  pretty  nearly  corre- 
sponded with  the  information  he  had  received  from  Steven- 
son, and,  as  he  placed  no  confidence  in  the  subsequent  re- 
ports he  had  received  from  citizens,  whose  inexperience  or 
whose  fears  he  believed  had  led  them  astray,  he  rejoiced  in 
the  opportunity  of  utterly  destroying  an  enemy  whom  he 
feared  as  much  as  he  hated.  He  had  calculated  much  upon 
the  assumed  recklessness  of  his  adversary,  and  the  daring 
movement  of  attempting  to  pass  through  the  open  country 
with  a  handful  of  men,  in  full  view  of  his  own  superior 
numbers,  had,  therefore,  excited  no  surprise.  Hastily  he 
gave  the  order  to  "mount,  and  cut  the  rascals  to  pieces !" 

With  a  wild  yell,  but  disordered  ranks,  his  men  rushed 
from  behind  the  cover  of  their  works.  The  captain  was  a 
little  staggered  when  he  saw  the  troops  he  had  expected 
to  ride  down  without  an  effort,  at  first  halt,  and  then  file 
deliberately,  and  in  perfect  order,  toward  the  shelter  of  the 
woods  they  had  left.  At  the  distance  of  a  hundred  yards 
they  exchanged  volleys,  but  with  very  difi'erent  eflfect.  The 
rebels  were  in  motion,  and  their  bullets  flew  wildly  and 
harmlessly  over  the  heads  of  their  adversaries.  The  Fede- 
rals were  stationary,  and  some  half  a  dozen  empty  saddles 
attested  the  accuracy  of  their  fire.  Captain  Rogers  now 
retreated  more  rapidly,  pausing,  however,  occasionally  to 
greet  his  pursuers  with  a  storm  of  leaden  messengers.  As 
he  neared  the  ambush  he  had  planted,  his  pace  quickened ; 
his  men  seemed  to  be  thrown  into  confusion  ;  they  no  longer 
wheeled  to  fire  upon  their  pursuers,  but  presented  all  the 
appearance  of  a  hopeless  and  disorderly  flight.  Elated  by 
what  he  now  esteemed  an  assured  victory,  Captain  Sykes 
shouted : 

"  Forward,  boys  !  don't  let  one  of  them  escape  !  Dead  or 
alive,  we  must  have  them  all  1" 

26* 


294  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

Ou  came  the  pursuers,  while  the  pursued,  notwithstand- 
ing their  apparent  terror,  made  slower  progress.  Again 
Captain  Sykes  shouted : 

"Use  your  spurs,  men,  and  they  are  ours  1  We  are 
gaining  on  them  at  every  jump !  It  will  be  our  fault  if  we 
don't  bag  every  one  !" 

These  were  his  last  words  on  earth.  He  had  approached 
to  within  less  than  fifty  yards  of  the  concealed  ambush,  and 
now  a  deadly  fire  was  poured  upon  him,  which  made  his 
ranks  reel  like  a  drunken  man.  At  the  same  time  the  dis- 
order of  the  fugitives  he  was  pursuing  disappeared  as  if  by 
magic. 

Wheeling  promptly  at  the  order  of  their  commander, 
they  came  thundering  to  the  charge.  Another  volley  was 
poured  in  from  either  side  of  the  road,  and  the  astounded 
rebels  broke  and  fled  in  all  directions.  For  two  hours 
they  were  pursued,  and  shot  down  without  mercy.  How 
many  escaped  was  never  known.  The  victors  did  not  take 
the  trouble  to  count  the  dead.  The  wounded,  too,  were 
left  where  they  fell.  Captain  Rogers  having  no  means  of 
taking  care  of  them,  and  being  certain,  moreover,  that 
their  secession  friends  in  the  neighborhood  would  hunt 
them  up  as  soon  as  his  back  was  turned.  His  own  loss 
was  one  killed,  and  five  wounded.  In  returning  from  the 
pursuit,  John  Franklin  paused  at  the  spot  where  Cap- 
tain Sykes  had  fallen.  Dismounting  from  his  horse,  he 
examined  the  wound  which  sent  him  to  his  long  ac- 
count. 

"He  got  it  just  where  I  meant  to  hit  him,"  he  said 
aloud;  though  he  was  evidently  not  addressing  the  soldiers 
who  had  reined  up  about  him.  "I  thought  he  couldn't 
escape  a  second  time.  'Tis  strange,"  he  continued,  "that 
though  I  don't  now  care  a  straw  for  the  girl,  and  haven't 
for  months,  how  keen  I  was  to  put  a  bullet  in  his  carcass  I 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  295 

I  don't  think  I  could  have  died  easy  without  knowing  that 
he  had  gone  before  me." 

Taking  one  more  look  at  the  dead  body,  he  remounted 
his  horse,  and  directed  his  steps  to  the  late  rebel  encamp- 
ment, where  the  various  pursuing  parties  were  assembled. 

Perfectly  satisfied  that  those  who  had  escaped  the  pur- 
suit and  the  battle  would  not  stop  in  that  vicinity,  Tiiomas 
Rogers  returned  to  his  father's  old  neighborhood.  He  had 
enough  to  do  there  to  keep  him  busy  for  some  time,  and  it 
was,  moreover,  the  best  point  for  enlisting  men  to  fill  up 
his  company  to  the  full  complement  of  one  hundred.  Riding 
up  to  the  dwelling  of  Mr.  Jones,  he  informed  him  that  he 
had  come  to  pay  him  a  brief  visit,  and  added  that  he 
trusted  it  would  prove  no  inconvenience.  It  was  in  vain 
that  Mr.  Jones  protested  that  he  did  not  have  provisions 
enough  to  supply  his  own  family.     Rogers  was  skeptical. 

"Your  nephew,  then,"  he  replied,  "has  not  been  as  kind 
to  you  as  to  his  other  friends.  It  was  his  practice,  I  know, 
to  leave  with  them  more  than  he  consumed;  and  I  am  tol- 
erably certain,  Mr.  Jones,  that  if  we  were  rebel  soldiers 
instead  of  being  what  we  are,  you  would  find  no  difiiculty 
in  supplying  us.  At  all  events,  I  intend  to  camp  at  your 
spring,  and  you  can  take  your  choice,  either  to  send  us 
what  we  need,  or  allow  me  to  send  a  squad  of  men  t®  get 
it  for  us.  Upon  one  point,  however,  I  have  no  objection 
to  relieving  your  mind.  I  do  not  mean  to  subsist  upon 
you  alone ;  to-morrow  I  shall  send  out  parties  to  make  an 
inspection  of  the  barns  and  smoke-houses  of  the  leading 
secessionists,  and,  as  they  have  thus  far  been  untouched,  I 
do  not  doubt  that  I  shall  collect  enough  to  subsist  my  men 
while  I  remain  here  without  drawing  upon  you  for  more 
than  you  can  conveniently  spare." 

Mr.  Jones  protested  that  he  had  nothing  to  spare — that 
even  to  supply  Captain  Rogers  for  one  day  would  subject 


296  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

bim  to  very  great  inconvenience,  and  insisted  that  there  was 
still  enough  time  to  send  out  and  get  what  they  needed 
before  sundown. 

"My  men  and  horses,"  replied  Rogers,  "are  both  tired, 
and  I  shall  send  out  no  parties  to-day.  I  know  what  your 
resources  are,  Mr.  Jones,  and  I  know  also  what  stores  you 
have  collected  at  your  plantation  on  Mud  Creek.  In  an 
hour  from  this  time,  if  my  men  are  not  amply  supplied 
with  provisions,  I  shall  send  them  up  to  see  what  they  can 
find.  In  the  mean  time  I  shall  take  the  liberty  of  posting 
a  sentry  at  the  house,  and  another  at  the  barn." 

This  threat  was  all-sufficient.  In  little  more  than  half 
the  time  designated,  the  soldiers  were  gladdened  by  the 
sight  of  an  abundance  of  forage  and  provisions,  of  which 
both  man  and  horse  were  much  in  need. 

The  next  day  Captain  Rogers  left  the  encampment  in 
charge  of  Lieutenant  Miller,  and,  attended  by  a  single 
soldier,  rode  to  the  house  of  Mrs.  Whitlock.  He  was 
warmly  welcomed  by  both  mother  and  daughter,  each  of 
whom  had  a  hundred  questions  to  ask.  As  most  of  these 
had  reference  to  himself  or  his  adventures,  they  were 
briefly  answered ;  but  he  dwelt  with  much  satisfaction  upon 
the  high  reputation  Tobias  Wilson  had  already  acquired 
as  a  soldier  among  the  hardy  veterans  of  the  "Army  of  the 
Tennessee,"  and  he  predicted  for  him  a  brilliant  and  hon- 
orable career.  He  also  communicated  the  fact,  which  he 
had  learned  by  a  letter  from  Wilson,  of  the  marriage  of  his 
father  with  Mrs.  Wilson.  In  return  he  was  told  of  many 
neighborhood  occurrences,  and  lastly  of  Captain  Sykes's 
visit  to  Ella  at  a  time  when  she  was  fortunately  absent. 
She  had  received  a  letter  from  him  a  few  days  afterward, 
in  which  he  announced  his  purpose  to  call  again,  and 
broadly  hinted  that  the  happiness  of  his  life  depended  upon 
the  result  of  that  interview.     She  told  how  she  had  trem- 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  297 

bled  upon  the  receipt  of  that  letter,  and  of  her  terror  and 
affright  from  day  to  day  until  something  induced  him  un- 
expectedly to  go  off  without  seeing  her. 

"It  was  my  coming,  I  suppose,"  said  Rogers,  "that  in- 
duced him  to  leave,  and  probably  kept  him  for  days  before- 
hand in  close  companionship  with  his  men.  But  you  need 
not  trouble  yourself  about  him  now,  Miss  Ella — he  has 
gone  where  he  will  never  disturb  you  again." 

"Where?"  she  asked  eagerly:  "where  has  he  gone? 
I  did  not  think  he  had  spirit  enough  to  return  to  the 
army." 

"He  has  gone  to  another  world,"  was  the  reply.  "He 
was  killed  in  battle  three  days  ago,  fighting  well  enough — 
killed  by  one  of  my  lieutenants,  who  was  a  former  lover  of 
a  girl  whom  Sykes  had  deceived  and  betrayed,  even  while 
professing  that  his  whole  heart  was  devoted  to  you.  So  at 
least  I  have  heard." 

"May  God  pardon  him  !"  she  murmured;  "besides  his 
treason,  he  had  many  sins  to  answer  for." 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  "and  without  a  redeeming  virtue 
that  ever  came  under  my  observation.  If  Franklin  had 
not  killed  him,  I  should  have  done  it  myself." 

"I  am  glad  you  did  not,"  she  said.  "  It  must  be  a  dark 
thing  to  have  human  blood  upon  your  hands." 

There  was  a  shadow  on  his  brow,  and  his  voice  was  low 
and  sad,  as  he  replied  : 

"There  is  a  good  deal  upon  mine,  Ella,  and  some  of  it, 
when  you  hear  the  story,  may  shock  you  beyond  forgive- 
ness. And  yet  I  came  here  to-day  to  tell  it.  Will  you 
walk  with  me?     I  do  not  wish  to  be  interrupted." 

"Yes;  but  you  may  keep  your  bloody  stories  to  your- 
self.    I  do  not  want  to  hear  them." 

"  Nevertheless  I  must  tell  it,  because  upon  that  depends 
another  story  which  my  heart  is  bursting  to  reveal." 


298  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

They  walked  in  silence  to  the  garden,  and  for  some  time 
wandered  over  it,  side  by  side,  without  a  word  being  spoken 
by  either  party.     At  length  he  said  abruptly : 

"You  remember  the  murder  of  Mr.  Johnson,  Ella,  do 
you  not?" 

"How  could  I  forget  that  horrible  affair,  or  the  other 
horrors  that  followed  it  ?  It  seems  like  a  dreadful  dream, 
but  I  cannot  banish  it  I" 

"Well,  I  must  begin  with  that." 

He  then  related  how,  in  riding  home  with  Tobias  "Wilson 
on  the  day  after  the  murder  of  his  grandfather,  they  had 
met  Parson  Williams  on  the  mountain  side,  and  how  they 
had  tracked  him  up,  and  what  strong  circumstances  they 
had  collected  of  his  participation  in  the  murder.  He  fur- 
ther informed  her  that  after  their  return  home  they  had  re- 
paired to  the  scene  of  the  murder ;  and  he  described,  in  clear 
and  explicit  terms,  all  the  damning  evidences  there  exhibited 
of  the  guilt  of  Parson  Williams,  Joshua  Wilkins,  and  Jim 
Biles.  He  went  over  the  conversation  which  had  taken 
place  that  night  between  himself  and  Tobias  Wilson,  and 
painted  the  scene  which  followed  at  the  burial  of  Mr.  John- 
son, when  Tobias  was  prevailed  upon  by  Sophy  to  pledge 
himself  not  to  avenge  the  murder  of  his  grandfather.  He 
also  told  her  that  Miller,  in  gratitude  for  the  kindness  he 
had  shown  him,  had  revealed  to  him  a  plot,  of  which  Parson 
■Williams  was  the  head,  and  Wilkins  and  Biles  were  to  be 
instruments,  to  murder  and  burn  out  the  Union  men  in  the 
county  as  soon  as  the  United  States  troops  should  leave  it. 

"And  then,"  he  added  sternly,  "I  made  up  my  mind 
that,  before  they  did  leave,  these  three  miscreants  should 
no  longer  cumber  the  earth." 

Ella  Whitlock  now  began  to  have  a  perception  of  the 
truth.     She  trembled  violentlv,  and  exclaimed : 

"  Oh,  you  did  not  kill  them  ?" 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  299 

"I  surely  did,  and  would  have  avowed  it  at  the  time  but 
for  the  fear  of  giving  pain  to  those  I  loved." 

"Why  then  tell  me  now?"  she  said,  bursting  into  tears. 
"I  did  not  wish  to  hear  it." 

**  Because  I've  something  else  to  tell  you,  which  it  would 
be  dishonorable  to  utter  while  you  were  in  ignorance  of 
this.  I  love  you,  Ella,  as  few  men  have  ever  loved — far 
too  deeply  either  to  deceive  you  or  to  conceal  from  you 
anything  that  might  affect  your  future  happiness.  Even 
your  love  would  be  valueless  to  me,  if  won  under  false 
pretenses." 

During  this  speech  she  had  been  crying  bitterly.  He 
stood  beside  her  in  silence,  offering  no  consolation;  for  he 
knew  not  what  to  offer,  and,  besides,  he  judged  rightly 
that  this  outburst  would  prove  a  relief.  At  length  she 
looked  up,  and  said  : 

"Say  no  more  now,  Mr.  Rogers;  I  must  have  time  to 
think.  And  remember,"  she  continued,  "that,  apart  from 
this  dreadful  tale,  I  have  never  thought  of  you  as  a  lover. 
I  esteemed  and  valued  you  as  a  friend ;  but,  until  this  day, 
you  have  never  given  me  the  right  to  do  more.  Wait  six 
months,  and  you  shall  have  my  answer." 

"Be  it  so;  I  expected  as  much." 

As  they  returned  to  the  house,  she  looked  up  at  him, 
and  inquired : 

"Shall  I  tell  my  mother?" 

"Assuredly.  Indeed,  I  do  not  care  if  the  whole  world 
should  know  it  now,  although  it  would  have  grieved  me 
much  if  you  had  heard  it  from  any  one  but  myself." 


CHAPTER  XY. 

Captain  Rogers,  having  cleared  the  county  of  guerril- 
las, was  busily  engaged  in  enlisting  men  for  his  company, 
when  a  new  swarm  of  bandits  began  to  pour  into  the  de- 
fenseless region  of  North  Alabama.  While  the  army  of 
General  Rosecrans  was  hemmed  in  Chattanooga,  with 
the  Confederate  lines  extending  from  a  point  on  the  Ten- 
nessee Riyer  above  that  city  to  the  base  of  Lookout 
Mountain  below,  with  the  river  strongly  picketed  to 
Bridgeport,  so  as  to  cut  off  all  supplies  by  railroad  or 
water,  that  officer  was  compelled  to  depend  for  a  scanty 
support  obtained  by  wagoning  over  a  dreadful  road  from 
Bridgeport  to  Chattanooga,  and  a  longer  and  almost  equally 
difficult  road  down  Sequachie  valley  to  the  same  point.  The 
troops  were  reduced  to  half  rations,  and  even  that  much 
was  very  irregularly  furnished.  In  this  condition  of  things, 
General  Rosecrans  was  superseded,  and  General  Grant  ap- 
pointed to  the  command  of  the  department,  with  General 
Thomas  commanding  at  Chattanooga.  From  Nashville 
Grant  telegraphed  to  Thomas  to  hold  the  place  at  all 
hazards.  The  situation  wdll  be  best  understood  by  quot- 
ing that  gallant  general's  grim  response:  "I'll  hold  it 
until  we  starve  !"  It  was  not  cannon-balls  or  bullets  that 
he  feared,  but  starvation.  General  Bragg  was  fully  aware 
of  the  straits  to  which  the  Federals  were  reduced,  and, 
hoping  to  compel  a  surrender  or  evacuation  by  one  de- 
cisive blow,  he  sent  Wheeler,  with  ten  thousand  cavalry, 
into  Sequachie  valley  to  cut  off  an  immense  supply  train, 
(300) 


TOBIAS     WILSOX.  301 

which  was  slowly  making  its  way  to  the  half-famished  army 
of  the  Tennessee.  Crossing  the  river  above  Chattanooga, 
and  moving  with  great  celerity,  General  Wheeler  succeeded 
in  capturing  seven  hundred  wagons,  which  were  only  guarded 
by  about  one  thousand  men.  The  wagons,  with  their  con- 
tents, were  burned,  and  the  mules  and  horses  shot  upon  the 
ground.  Some  sutlers'  wagons,  which  accompanied  the 
train,  were  also  destroyed,  after  being  robbed  of  all  that 
was  valuable.  From  thence  he  proceeded  to  McMinnville, 
which  he  easily  captured,  destroyed  the  public  stores  and 
public  property  of  every  kind,  and  indiscriminately  robbed 
the  citizens  of  money,  watches,  jewelry,  clothing,  all  that 
they  could  appropriate  or  take  away.  From  thence  he 
marched  to  Shelbyville,  ten  miles  from  the  railroad  be- 
tween Nashville  and  Stevenson,  and  which  was  guarded 
by  only  two  companies  of  Home  Guards.  This  town  was 
little  more  than  a  trading  post,  from  which  the  citizens  of 
the  surrounding  country  obtained  their  supplies.  There 
was  little  public  property,  and  that  little  of  no  great  value. 
All  the  stores  and  the  goods  they  contained  were  the  prop- 
erty of  private  individuals.  There  were  no  fortifications, 
and  no  troops  to  man  them  if  there  had  been.  The  ma- 
jority of  the  citizens  were  Union  men,  but  they  had  not 
taken  up  arms,  nor  in  any  way  forfeited  their  claim  to  the 
character  of  peaceful  citizens.  It  had  been  a  considerable 
town  before  the  war,  and  was  still  of  importance  as  furnish- 
ing supplies  to  the  inhabitants  of  Southern  Tennessee  and 
Northern  Alabama.  It  was  well  stocked  with  goods,  and 
was  therefore  just  the  place  for  Wheeler.  Galloping  into 
the  town  and  securing  the  main  streets,  his  men  dismounted, 
and  then  commenced  a  scene  of  indiscriminate  plunder, 
which  has  no  parallel  in  the  history  of  the  war.  Every 
store  was  broken  open — every  dwelling  entered  and 
searched.     Not  a  dollar  was  left  in  the  possession  of  any 

27 


302  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

citizen  upon  which  they  could  lay  their  hands;  not  an  arti- 
cle of  value  was  spared.  Bales  of  domestic,  rolls  of  cloth, 
bolts  of  calico,  pieces  of  silk,  ladies'  shawls,  shoes,  every 
article  of  merchandise  were  thrown  into  the  streets;  and 
the  robbers  freely  helped  themselves  to  whatever  they  took 
a  fancy  to,  or  could  pack  away  upon  their  saddles  or  under 
them. 

While  his  men  were  engaged  in  this  delightful  occupa- 
tion, General  Wheeler  received  notice  that  about  six  thou- 
sand United  States  cavalry,  under  Generals  Crook  and 
Mitchell,  were  in  rapid  pursuit.  Calling  off  all  of  his  com- 
mand whom  it  was  possible  to  move,  he  retreated  toward 
Palaski,  intending  to  recross  the  Tennessee  River  below 
the  mouth  of  Elk.  At  Farmington  he  was  overtaken  by 
General  Crook.  Here  a  battle  ensued,  in  which  the  rebels 
were  badly  beaten,  but  from  some  mistake  in  the  execution 
of  an  order  he  was  enabled  to  effect  his  escape  with  the 
shattered  remnants  of  his  army.  General  Crook  pressed 
hotly  in  pursuit,  but  the  enemy  possessed  an  advantage 
which  rendered  all  his  efforts  unavailing.  Going  in  ad- 
vance they  pressed  all  the  fresh  horses  on  the  route,  leav- 
ing their  own  tired  and  broken-down  animals  behind.  In 
this  way  he  managed  to  reach  the  river  and  cross  over  the 
remnant  of  his  command  a  few  hours  before  General  Crook 
arrived  in  sight.  But  his  raid  had  cost  him  dear.  He 
had  left  Chattanooga  with  ten  thousand  men  and  ten  or 
twelve  pieces  of  light  artillery ;  he  regained  the  southern 
bank  of  the  riv^r  with  about  four  thousand  men  and  half 
of  his  artillery.  Besides  his  losses  in  battle,  at  least  a 
thousand  of  his  men — who  had  gorged  themselves  with 
plunder  at  Shelbyville  —  immediately  deserted,  and  went 
southward  to  secure  their  ill-gotten  gains.  At  Farming- 
ton  another  large  number,  finding  themselves  cut  off  from 
the  main  body,  scattered  and  fled  southward.     Along  the 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  303 

whole  line  of  his  retreat  squads  of  two,  and  three,  and  four, 
and  five  would  fall  behind,  and  as  soon  as  they  were  out  of 
sight  would  strike  off  in  the  same  direction. 

In  this  way  every  county  in  North  Alabama  was  filled 
with  lawless  desperadoes.  No  man's  property  was  secure 
two  miles  from  an  inhabited  town.  Many  of  them,  indeed, 
had  taken  up  their  abode  in  the  towns  and  villages;  but 
these  were  of  the  better  sort,  and  their  behavior  was  gen- 
erally unexceptionable.  Among  those  who  preferred  a 
residence  in  the  country,  both  on  account  of  safety  and  for 
the  better  facilities  it  afi"orded  for  stealing  and  transporting 
their  plunder  to  a  market,  were  to  be  found  the  sons  of  men 
who  were  worth  from  one  to  four  or  five  hundred  thousand 
dollars.  They  had  enjoyed  every  facility  for  obtaining  the 
best  educations,  and  had  moved  in  the  highest  circles  of 
society;  but  the  demoralizing  influence  of  such  associates 
as  were  to  be  found  under  the  standard  of  a  general 
(Major-General  Joseph  Wheeler)  who  owed  his  rapid  pro- 
motion alone  to  the  favor  of  his  kinsman,  (Adjutant-Gen- 
eral Cooper,)  and  who  was  about  as  well  fitted  to  discharge 
the  responsible  duties  of  his  high  office  as  a  well-trained 
mastiff  would  have  been,*  was  too  much,  both  for  whatever 


■5^  "Wheeler  was  but  twenty-two  years  of  age  when  he  was  first 
appointed  colonel  of  an  Alabama  regiment  of  infantry,  because  he 
was,  as  the  Secretary  of  War  (L.  P.  Walker)  himself  said,  ''a  favor- 
ite of  General  Cooper,  and  there  vjas  then  no  other  place  to  give  him." 
He  was  therefore  transferred  from  Florida,  made  a  citizen  of  Ala- 
bama and  colonel  of  Alabama  troops  by  the  fiat  of  the  War  De- 
partment. Without  exhibiting  any  military  capacity,  or  giving 
evidence  even  of  that  personal  courage  so  common  in  this  country, 
he  was  in  a  very  short  time  promoted  to  brigadier  and  then  to 
major-general,  and  assigned  to  the  chief  command  of  the  cavalry 
of  the  rebel  Army  of  Tennessee — a  position  made  vacant  by  the 
merited  death  of  Van  Dorn,  at  the  hands  of  an  outraged  husband, 
of  whose  generous  hospitality  he  had  taken  a  low,  vile,  mean,  and 


804  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

natural  honesty  they  might  have  had,  and  the  advantages 
of  education  and  early  association  with  which  they  had 
been  blessed.  From  gentlemen  they  had  been  converted 
into  thieves  and  murderers  of  the  most  inexcusable  kind. 
Although  they  did  not  feel  strong  enough  to  attempt  any 
outras:es  that  would  be  likelv  to  excite  resistance  in  the 
towns,  they  did  not  hesitate  to  ride  into  them ;  and,  when 
under  the  influence  of  whisky,  they  boasted  of  what  they 
had  done,  and  loudly  proclaimed  their  intention  to  rob, 
burn,  and  otherwise  lay  waste  the  plantations  of  well- 
known  citizens — a  threat  which  was  by  no  means  an  empty 
one,  and  whose  execution  generally  exceeded  in  atrocity 
their  avowed  intentions.* 

When  Wheeler  had  placed  the  river  between  himself 
and  his  pursuers,  he  found  himself  in  one  of  the  richest 
valleys  of  the  South,  the  inhabitants  of  which  were  for  the 
most  part  secessionists,,  and,  naturally  enough,  supposed 

despicable  advantage,  and  whose  sadly  mistaken  kindness  he  had 
repaid  by  dishonoring  his  wife.  Wheeler  signalized  his  promotion 
by  an  attempt  to  surprise  and  retake  Fort  Donelson,  and  was  dis- 
gracefully repulsed  by  a  handful  of  raw  troops  posted  in  some  log- 
cabins,  protected  by  no  works  of  defense,  and  supported  only  by 
a  single  line  of  rifle-pits.  The  place,  if  taken,  could  not  have  been 
held  by  the  rebels  a  week;  and  the  effort  to  surprise  it  must  have 
been  induced  by  the  hope  of  pillage — an  object  which  Greneral 
Wheeler's  subsequent  career  affords  reason  to  believe  that  he  re- 
gards as  the  highest  aim  and  purpose  of  war.  After  this,  General 
Forrest,  who  had  protested  against,  but  was  reluctantly  forced  to 
participate  in  the  useless,  and,  in  the  end,  disgraceful  movement, 
refused  to  serve  under  him,  saying  boldly  that  it  was  "bad  enough 
to  be  commanded  by  an  inexperienced  boy,  but  to  be  ordered 
about  by  a  boy  and  a  fool  combined,  is  more  than  I  can  stand." 

^  The  author  was  one  of  those  threatened,  and  in  a  few  weeks 
he  was  robbed  of  thirty-five  mules,  four  horses,  and  every  hog, 
sheep,  and  goat,  with  every  hoof  of  cattle,  besides  corn,  provisions, 
etc.  to  an  unknown  amount,  from  one  plantation. 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  805 

that  they  would  be  exempted  from  any  unnecessary  exac- 
tions. But  they  were  not  long  in  ascertaining  that  this 
was  a  wide  mistake.  Every  man  in  that  delectable  body 
of  misnamed  soldiers  was  his  own  quartermaster  and  com- 
missary ;  and  during  the  time  they  remained,  for  the  pre- 
tended purpose  of  recruiting  their  horses,  that  delightful 
region  was  converted  into  a  melancholy  waste.  The  corn, 
just  then  fully  ripe  and  ready  for  housing,  was  pulled  in 
the  fields,  and  fed  to  their  horses  on  the  ground.  In  this 
way  more  was  wasted  than  consumed.  Hogs  were  shot 
down  at  will,  and  particular  portions  cut  off  and  carried  to 
the  camp,  the  larger  part  being  left  to  rot  on  the  ground ; 
cattle  were  destroyed  in  the  same  manner ;  horses  were 
stolen  under  the  convenient  name  of  impressment ;  for 
miles  and  miles  not  a  fence  was  left  standing,  the  dry  rails 
being  more  convenient  for  firewood,  besides  saving  the 
labor  of  cutting  down  and  splitting  up  trees. 

''But  this,"  said  one  of  the  sufferers,  "is  not  of  so  much 
consequence  now,  because  they  have  left  neither  hogs  nor 
cattle  in  the  country  to  injure  what  little  remains  in  the 
field."* 

From  the  Courtland  valley  they  went  eastward  toward 
Rome,  Georgia,  leaving,  however,  about  a  regiment  be- 
hind, ostensibly  to  guard  the  ferries  on  the  river;  but,  what- 
ever the  generaVs  purpose  was,  the  men  thus  left  behind 
had  a  different  view  of  their  duties.     Instead  of  confining 


*  It  may  be  said  that  the  Union  army  committed  similar  depre- 
dations. Let  the  assertion  be  granted.  The  Union  army  were  in 
the  country  of  their  enemies,  and  had  a  right,  according  to  the  laws 
of  war,  to  draw  their  subsistence  from  hostile  inhabitants.  From 
known  friends  they  took  nothing  they  did  not  pay  for  or  give  cash 
vouchers.  Wheeler's  troops  were  in  their  own  country  and  among 
their  own  friends.  Who  ever  heard  of  United  States  soldiers  forci- 
bly seizing  or  pressing  the  property  of  citizens  in  any  loyal  State? 

27* 


306  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

themselves  to  guarding  the  crossings  of  the  river,  they  took 
advantage  of  the  opportunity  afforded  them  to  increase 
their  own  private  gains.  It  was  their  habit  for  parties  to 
cross  over  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  "capture"  a  lot  of 
horses,  mules,  or  some  other  valuable  thing,  and  recross 
early  the  next  morning  with  whatever  they  had  succeeded 
in  obtaining.  In  this  way  they  avoided  the  danger  of  hav- 
ing their  proceedings  interfered  with  by  the  small  body  of 
United  States  cavalry  then  stationed  at  Brownsborough, 
on  the  Memphis  and  Charleston  Railroad.  Immense 
amounts  of  property  were  thus  transported  into  Dixie,  the 
profits  therefrom  going  of  course  into  the  pockets  of  the 
captors.  On  one  occasion,  a  citizen,  who  had  lost  three 
fine  mules,  followed  them  to  the  rebel  camp.  He  suc- 
ceeded in  identifying  the  robber,  and  went  with  him  to 
the  quarters  of  the  colonel.  That  worthy  being,  in  his  own 
phraseology,  "a  leetle  under  the  influence  of  liquor," — in 
plain  English,  very  drunk, — first  demanded,  in  a  tone  that 
he  meant  to  be  both  dignified  and  stern,  whether  the  claim- 
ant was  not  a  d — d  old  Union  traitor;  and  being  answered 
that  he  was  born  in  South  Carolina,  and  had  lived  for 
nearly  forty  years  in  Alabama,  and  was  besides  too  old  to 
take  any  active  part  in  the  war,  he  had  supposed  that  if 
he  remained  quietly  at  home,  paying  to  the  Confederacy 
all  the  taxes,  and  submitting  to  all  the  exactions  made 
upon  him,  honestly  and  without  a  murmur,  no  more  would 
be  required  ;  and  that  he  did  not  think  the  epithet  of  traitor 
ought,  under  the  circumstances,  to  be  applied  to  him. 

"Oh,  yes;  you  paid  what  you  couldn't  help  !     There  is 
not  much  merit  in  that." 

"I  have  fully  obeyed  the  law,  and  am  entitled  to  its 
protection." 

"D — n  the  law!     We  make  the  law  ourselves  wherever 
we  go;  and  there's  nothing  in  our  law  making  it  the  duty 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  307 

of  an  officer  to  hunt  up  mules  for  fellows  like  you.  If  you 
was  a  good  patriot,  you'd  never  have  said  a  word  about 
'em,  because  there'll  be  plenty  of  Yankees  down  this  way 
before  long,  and  if  I  was  to  send  'em  back  to  you,  them 
rascals  would  be  sure  to  git  'em.  We  are  fightin'  for  your 
liberties — and  we've  come  all  the  way  from  Kentucky*  to 
protect  your  property  and  your  lives." 

The  outraged  applicant  heartily  wished  that  he  had 
stayed  at  home  to  protect  his  own  property  and  defend 
the  liberties  of  his  own  neighbors ;  but  he  dared  not 
whisper  such  a  wish  in  the  drunken  presence  of  the  brute 
to  whose  sense  of  justice  he  had  been  foolish  enough  to 
make  an  appeal.  Finding  there  was  no  hope  of  redress 
from  the  colonel,  but  being  very  unwilling  to  lose  his 
mules,  as  he  was  a  poor  man,  to  whom  such  a  loss  was 
a  serious  grievance,  he  determined  to  apply  to  the  quar- 
termaster, or  at  least  to  the  man  who  held  the  commission 
and  nominally  discharged  the  duties  of  that  office.  The 
quartermaster  was  more  polite  than  his  superior,  and 
seemed  to  think  that  it  was  bad  enough  to  take  away  a 
man's  property  without  adding  insult  to  the  wrong ;  but 
it  was  clear  that  he  had  no  idea  of  assisting  the  owner  to 

regain  what  he  had  lost.     Was  Mr.  ,   he  inquired, 

certain  that  the  animals  were  brought  to  this  encampment  ? 
Yes,  he  had  followed  them  to  the  ferry  on  yesterday,  and 
had  tracked  them  this  morning  to  the  camp  j  besides, 
here  was  one  of  the  men  who  took  them. 

"  Did  you  take  them,  sir  ?"  he  inquired  of  the  man, 
with  great  apparent  sternness. 

*  Wheeler's  cavalry  was  composed  of  men  from  almost  all  the 
Southwestern  States,  and  one  of  the  worst  regiments  among  them 
was  from  Kentucky.  These  double  traitors — traitors  to  their  State 
and  to  their  government — were  for  months  stationed  on  the  south 
bank  of  the  Tennessee,  and  deeply  did  the  citizens  have  cause  to 
rue  their  presence. 


308  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

"  No,  sir,  and  there  ain't  been  no  mules  brought  into 
this  camp  to-day^  nuther. " 

This  was  true,  for  they  had  been  hidden  out  on  the  side 
of  the  mountain,  and  one  of  his  comrades  was  at  that  very 
moment  standing  guard  over  them.  For  the  conveni- 
ence of  the  quartermaster,  it  was  understood  that  no  ani- 
mals were  to  be  brought  in  during  the  daytime,  but  were 
hid  out  for  a  time  and  slipped  in  at  night.  At  this  denial 
of  the  soldier,  which  he  seemed  uncommonly  willing  to 
accept,  the  quartermaster  said  : 

"  What  can  I  do,  Mr. ?     You  hear  what  he  says. 

Of  course,  you  cannot  expect  me  to  neglect  important 
duties  to  hunt  up  your  property.  If  you  will  find  your 
mules  and  show  them  to  me,  I  will  not  only  give  them  up, 
but  punish  the  men  severely  who  took  them ;  that  is  all 
you  could  reasonably  expect  of  me." 

That  certainly  was  all  that  Mr.  would  have  ex- 
pected if  he  had  believed  one  word  that  had  been  said  to 
him  ;  but  he  did  not,  and  he  turned  away  with  a  convic- 
tion that  the  actual  robber  was  not  the  only  guilty  party 
to  the  transaction.  He  could  tolerate  the  drunken  im- 
pertinence of  the  colonel  better  than  the  smooth  hypocrisy 
of  his  subordinate.  When  leaving  the  encampment,  the 
soldier  followed  him  a  short  distance  beyond  the  lines, 
and  then  said  abruptly : 

"  What  did  you  value  them  mules  at,  Mr.  ?" 

"  They  cost  me  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  each  be- 
fore the  war,  and  they  are  worth  double  that  now  when 
good  work  animals  are  so  hard  to  get." 

"Well,"  said  the  soldier,  "1  don't  wish  to  be  hard  on 
you,  and  if  you'll  give  me  three  hundred  and  fifty  dollars 
I'll  bring  'em  back  to  you  in  the  course  of  a  week.  You 
see  there's  three  of  us,  and  that'll  make  a  hundred  dollars 
a  piece,  and  I  must  have  fifty  for  the  trouble  of  bringing 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  309 

'em  back.     I'm  sure  you  couldn't  expect  anything  more 
reasonable  than  that." 

It  was,  indeed,  more  reasonable  than  Mr. had  ex- 
pected, and,  much  as  he  disliked  the  idea  of  buying  back 
his  own  property  from  the  thieves  who  had  taken  it,  he 
assented  to  the  proposition,  and  agreed  to  pay  the  three 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars  whenever  the  mules  were  deliv- 
ered to  him.  He  was  not  simple  enough  to  believe  that 
this  seeming  generosity  was  without  a  motive,  and  he  con- 
cluded that  it  was  the  purpose  of  the  thief  to  get  his. three 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  and  then  steal  the  mules  again 
at  an  early  daythereafter ;  but  he  kept  his  suspicions  to 
himself,  inwardly  resolving  to  guard  effectually  against 
such  a  contingency.  After  the  bargain  was  concluded, 
the  soldier  walked  on  by  the  side  of  his  horse  for  some 
distance,  unreservedly  telling  of  various  similar  transac- 
tions in  which  he   had  been  engaged.      Observing  that 

he  always  spoke  of  dividing  his  profits  by  three,  Mr. 

asked,  with  seeming  unconcern  : 

"  Who  is  your  third  partner?  There  was  but  one  man 
with  you  when  you  took  the  mules." 

"  Captain  Williams,  the  quartermaster  ;  and,  though 
he  never  takes  nothin'  himself,  because  it  would  go  to 
the  government  then,  yet  he's  worth  both  of  us,  for  he 
hides  everything  when  we  couldn't  do  it ;  and  when  the 
colonel  gits  in  one  of  his  tantrums  and  sets  up  for  honest, 
which  he  ain't  no  mor'n  the  rest  of  us,  the  captain  makes 
a  great  search  and  reports  to  him  that  there  ain't  nothin' 
been  taken,  and  that  we  all's  been  slandered." 

"I  thought  as  much!"  was  the  inward  ejaculation  of 

Mr. ;   and,  saying  that  "he  didn't  have  more  than 

time  to  get  home  by  dark,"  he  bade  his  communicative 
companion  good-by,  and  rode  away  at  an  increased  pace, 
having  gained  considerable  insight  into  the  rapid  manner 


310  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

in  which  fortunes  were  accumulated  by  Confederate  quar- 
termasters. 

The  country  through  which  General  Wheeler  had  to 
pass  on  his  journey  to  Rome  was  poor  and  extremely 
mountainous.  The  inhabitants  had  nothing  of  which  to 
be  robbed,  except  live  stock,  which  they  could  easily  hide 
in  the  mountains  away  from  their  houses  and  far  from  any 
traveled  road.  They  were,  however,  almost  universally 
loyal  to  the  government  of  the  United  States.  Of  this 
the  marauders  were  well  aware.  The  First  Alabama  Cav- 
alry, now  attached  to  Kilpatrick's  command  in  Sherman's 
army,  were  enlisted  among  these  mountains,  or  rather  had 
left  their  homes  in  the  mountains,  and  made  their  way  to 
Huntsville  and  Decatur  to  volunteer  in  the  United  States 
army.  They  had  met  Wheeler  more  than  once  on  the 
battle-field,  and  given  him  cause  to  remember  them  with 
terror  as  well  as  with  hatred.  It  was  among  their  friends, 
their  fathers,  mothers,  sisters,  and  little  brothers,  that  he 
now  found  himself,  and,  poor  as  they  were,  he  contrived, 
in  his  hurried  march,  to  leave  them  still  poorer.  Pur- 
suing his  way  to  Georgia,  he  rejoined  General  Bragg  with 
less  than  one-third  of  the  men  with  whom  he  had  set  out 
upon  his  expedition.  Here  we  take  leave  of  them  for  the 
present,  or  rather  of  that  part  of  them  who  still  preserved 
a  show  of  organization  ;  but  Wheeler's  cavalry  were  ubi- 
quitous. There  was  not  a  neighborhood  in  several  States 
which  was  unoccupied  by  United  States  soldiers,  or,  what 
they  dreaded  still  more,  regular  Confederate  troops,  in 
which  they  were  not  to  be  found.  These  last  were  partic- . 
ularly  shunned,  because,  if  caught  by  them,  they  would 
certainly  be  sent  to  the  army,  where,  if  reported  to  Gen- 
eral Bragg,  they  would  stand  a  fair  chance  of  being  shot 
for  desertion.  But  in  every  part  of  the  country  where  no 
such  danger  was  to  be  apprehended,  they  were  to  be  found 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  311 

roving  about  with  no  object  but  pillage ;  and  when  ques- 
tioned as  to  the  reasons  for  their  absence  from  their  proper 
place  in  the  army)  the  answer  invariably  was,  either  that 
they  had  been  sent  off  on  special  duty  by  general  or  colonel 
somebody,  or  that  they  were  then  on  their  way  to  the  front. 
In  this  connection  it  will  not  be  improper  to  record  a  con- 
versation which  occurred  between  one  of  these  parties  and 
an  old  lady  near  the  line  between  Alabama  and  Tennessee. 
Riding  up  to  her  house  about  mid-day,  they  inquired  if 
they  could  get  some  dinner,  adding  that  they  were  willing 
to  pay  her  well  for  it — a  willingness  which  was  attributable 
to  the  fact  that  a  body  of  United  States  cavalry  were  in 
the  neighborhood,  and  they  were  thus  restrained  from 
committing  depredations  which  would  induce  the  sufferer 
to  make  a  report  that  would  cause  pursuit. 

After  a  brief  inspection  of  their  persons  from  the  door 
of  her  house,  she  inquired  : 

"Who  are  you,  and  where  are  you  going?" 

She  was  answered : 

"We  belong  to  General  Wheeler's  cavalry,  and  are  on 
our  way  to  the  front." 

"Well,  now,  I  wish  you'd  just  tell  me  where  the  front 
is  ?  I  see  you  coming  from  all  directions,  and  going  every 
which  way,  and  every  living  soul  says  he's  going  to  the 
front.     I  want  to  know  where  the  front  is  ?" 

In  the  eastern  part  of  Jackson  County  there  was  an  in- 
fantry garrison  at  Stevenson,  and  another  at  Bridgeport. 
The  advent  of  Captain  Rogers  with  his  mounted  men  had 
also  become  known,  and  the  consequence  was  that  these 
stragglers,  or,  more  properly  speaking,  deserters,  gave 
that  section  a  pretty  wide  berth,  and  confined  their  opera- 
tions principally  to  that  part  of  Marshall  County  lying 
north  of  the  Tennessee,  Jackson,  west  of  Paint  Rock,  the 
whole  of  Madison,  Limestone,  and  part  of  Lauderdale. 


312  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

In  returning  from  his  pursuit  of  Wheeler,  Gen.  Crook 
had  divided  his  command  :  one  division,  led  by  himself,  re- 
tracing the  route  over  which  they  had  advanced ;  the  other, 
under  General  Mitchell,  marching  up  the  valley,  nearer 
the  river,  through  Athens  and  Huntsville,  on  the  direct 
road  to  Stevenson. 

Many  prisoners  were  captured  by  General  Mitchell,  but 
they  were  in  general  the  least  offensive  of  the  gang,  being 
those  who  had  quietly  settled  at  their  own  homes,  or  had 
collected  in  the  towns  without  any  object  but  that  of  en- 
joying themselves  and  avoiding  the  hard  service  of  an 
actual  campaign  in  Northern  Georgia — the  worst  despe- 
radoes having  hidden  themselves  in  the  mountains  and 
swamps  until  such  time  as  they  could  emerge  from  their 
coverts  with  safety ;  then  a  regular  system  of  thieving  was 
inaugurated  everywhere  in  the  counties  named,  and  a  reign 
of  terror  in  Southeastern  Madison  and  ]N"orthern  Marshall. 
Men  were  murdered,  houses  burned  down,  and  property 
wantonly  destroyed.  The  inhabitants,  though  almost  all 
in  moderate  circumstances,  were,  nevertheless,  well  sup- 
plied with  the  necessaries  of  life.  They  had  been  nearly 
unanimous  against  secession.  At  one  precinct,  in  that  part 
of  Madison,  which  cast  over  three  hundred  votes,  there 
was  not  a  single  secessionist.  This  afforded  a  pretext  for 
outrages  upon  them,  which  was  never  neglected.  To  be  or 
to  have  been  a  Union  man,  unless  the  offender  had  subse- 
quently become  a  violent  secessionist,  was  always  a  suffi- 
cient excuse  for  any  wrong  that  a  brutal,  thieving,  murder- 
ing soldiery  saw  proper  to  commit.  One  neighborhood 
was  completely  depopulated,  and  the  surrounding  ones 
suffered  terribly.  Occasional  bodies  of  United  States 
troops  had  been  sent  into  that  region  to  clear  the  country 
of  the  wretches  who  infested  it,  and  afford  protection  to 
the  loyal  residents.     But  in  the  mountains  and  swamps 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  313 

there  were  many  hiding-places  that  were  inaccessible  to 
those  who  were  not  familiar  with  the  locality;  and  above 
all,  the  nearness  of  the  river,  and  their  facilities  for  cross- 
ing it  at  all  times,  made  their  escape  of  easy  accomplish- 
ment. The  only  way  therefore  to  put  an  effectual  stop  to 
their  depredations  was  to  make  a  regular  station  somewhere 
on  the  north  bank  nearly  opposite  to  Guntersville.  To 
put  a  small  force  there  would  be  to  doom  it  to  capture  or 
destruction,  for  the  rebels  held  the  south  bank  in  consider- 
able force,  with  Guntersville  as  headquarters,  and  could  at 
any  time,  within  a  few  days,  collect  and  cross  over  a  suffi- 
cient number  to  overwhelm  a  detachment  composed  of  less 
than  two  hundred  and  fifty  men.  There  was  no  military 
reason  for  establishing  a  permanent  post  at  that  point,  and 
General  Grant,  who  was  then  making  arrangements  to 
drive  the  enemy  from  around  Chattanooga,  had  no  troops 
to  spare  for  any  but  absolutely  necessary  purposes.  The 
occasional  visits  of  parties  of  United  States  cavalry  there- 
fore did  harm  instead  of  good,  for  every  man  who  received 
them  kindly,  or  was  known  to  have  given  them  any  in- 
formation, was  instantly  marked,  and  the  departure  of  the 
troops  was  the  signal  for  remorseless  vengeance. 

Toward  the  last  of  October  all  the  United  States  troops 
were  withdrawn  from  the  valley  of  the  Tennessee,  prepara- 
tory to  a  contemplated  attack  upon  the  rebel  lines  about 
Chattanooga.  The  company  of  Captain  Rogers  were  the 
only  mounted  men  that  remained  on  the  north  baiik  of  the 
river.  The  country  ^oon  swarmed  with  guerrillas,  and 
again  the  inhabitants  were  subjected  to  the  infliction  of 
outrages  of  every  description.  In  the  western  part  of  the 
valley  their  object  seemed  to  be  mainly  that  of  gain.  They 
uttered  many  threats  indeed  of  hanging,  burning,  and  de- 
stroying, and  all  were  satisfied  that  these  were  threats 
which  it  would  require  but  little  provocation  to  induce 

28 


314  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

them  to  carry  into  execution ;  but  the  inhabitants  were 
unarmed,  the  young  men  had  been  dragged  away  by  the 
conscription,  none  but  the  old  and  helpless  were  left  be- 
hind, and  as  these  made  no  opposition  to  acts  they  could 
not  prevent,  or  even  ameliorate  by  remonstrance,  they  were 
generally  exempt  from  personal  violence. 

A  different  state  of  things  prevailed  in  the  southeast  and 
among  the  mountains  to  the  northeast.  Here,  worse  pas- 
sions had  been  excited;  neighbor  was  arrayed  against 
neighbor,  and  to  the  evils  of  open  violence  were  added 
private  assassinations  and  midnight  burnings.  No  man 
knew  whom  to  trust,  and  gloomy  suspicions  even  of  his 
friends  settled  upon  every  man's  heart.  Learning  that 
small  parties  of  self-constituted  soldiers  had  come  down 
from  Tennessee,  and  were  infesting  the  northern  and  north- 
western part  of  the  county  not  far  from  him.  Captain 
Rogers  determined  to  make  an  effort  to  capture  or  destroy 
them.  He  therefore  divided  his  company,  and  moving  with 
one-half  nearly  northward,  he  sent  Lieutenant  Miller  to 
the  northwest,  with  instructions  when  he  had  reached  a 
given  point  to  turn  eastward  and  move  as  rapidly  as  the 
country  would  permit,  to  meet  him.  In  this  way  he  ex- 
pected to  hem  in  and  cut  off  the  vandals  who  bid  fair  to 
desolate  the  land.  As  he  proceeded  on  his  march,  his 
heart  sickened  within  him.  Almost  every  hour  revealed 
some  evidence  of  the  cruel  and  relentless  presence  of  men 
whom  the  long  indulgence  of  every  bad  passion  had  con- 
verted into  fiends.  Now  he  would*  pass  a  field  with  the 
fences  destroyed,  the  corn  trampled  down  and  rotting  on 
the  ground.  A  little  farther  on  a  heap  of  ashes  marked 
where  a  dwelling  once  stood ;  and  the  question  forced  itself 
upon  him,  what  has  become  of  the  helpless  wretches  who 
were  once  sheltered  here  ?  No  cattle,  no  hogs,  no  horses, 
and  no  domestic  animals  of  any  kind  were  to  be  seen.     A 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  315 

dull,  dread  silence  brooded  over  all.  The  footpriats  of  deso- 
lation were  the  only  signs  which  indicated  that  a  happy  and 
contented  people  once  gathered  their  daily  bread  from  the 
little  coves  and  valleys  about  it.  As  he  penetrated  deeper 
into  the  mountains,  the  work  of  ruin  did  not  seem  to  have 
been  so  complete.  At  long  intervals,  inhabited  cabins 
were  to  be  found,  but  the  white-headed  urchins  playing  in 
the  yards  ran  to  the  houses  with  terrified  faces,  and  their 
mothers  would  peep  from  the  doors  to  see  what  new  danger 
threatened  them.  If  he  halted  to  make  an  inquiry,  the 
answer  came  from  trembling  lips,  as  if  they  were  uncertain 
whether  they  were  not  giving  information  which  would 
cause  them  to  be  visited  by  the  vengeance  of  the  opposing 
party.  Approaching  a  house  near  nightfall,  w4iere  there 
appeared  to  have  been  much  less  comparative  suffering, 
and  there  was  a  prospect  of  obtaining  sufficient  forage  for 
his  horses,  he  gave  notice  to  the  owner  of  his  purpose  to 
halt,  at  the  same  time  assuring  him  that  he  would  pay 
liberally  for  whatever  his  men  might  consume. 

"I  can't  hinder  you  from  stopping  here,  sir,"  was  the 
reply,  "or  from  taking  what  you  want.  But,  for  God's 
sake,  go  on  a  mile  or  two  farther.  If  you  stop  here  I  am 
undone.  The  first  time  your  enemies  come  here  they  will 
charge  me  with  entertaining  you,  and  destroy  everything 
that  is  left.  The  old  woman  and  the  children  will  be  turned 
out  to  starve." 

"But,  old  man,"  was  the  reply,  "you  cannot  help  my 
staying  here,  as  you  say ;  and  surely  no  one  would  take 
vengeance  on  you  for  that  ?" 

"Oh  yes,  sir;  my  nearest  neighbor  was  burned  out  of 
bouse  and  home  for  no  other  reason." 

"  Who  did  it  ?" 

"I  don't  know,"  was  the  reply. 

"But  I  mean,  which  party  did  it?" 


316  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

"I  don't  know,  sir, — indeed  I  don't,"  he  again  said,  de- 
termined not  to  confess  his  knowledge  of  anything  relating 
to  the  hostile  parties. 

"Well,"  said  Rogers,  who  saw  that  his  ignorance  was 
assumed,  "I'll  tell  you  who  I  am,  and  what  my  business 
is  here.  I  am  Captain  Thomas  Rogers,  commanding  a 
company  of  Union  soldiers,  and  my  business  here  is  to  take 
prisoner,  shoot,  and  render  harmless  in  every  possible  way 
the  villains  who  have  worked  such  terrible  mischief  here." 

"Oh,  sir !  we  thank  you  ;  all  of  us  thank  you  at  heart. 
But  you  will  go  away  again,  and  then  we  shall  be  at  their 
mercv." 

"I  think  not:  I  think  I  have  made  such  arrangements 
as  will  insure  the  destruction  of  a  good  many  of  them,  and 
strike  such  terror  into  the  remainder,  that  they  will  be  in 
no  hurry  to  visit  this  neiorhborhood  ao^ain." 

"Well,  sir,  since  it  must  be  so,  stay  where  you  are;  I 
have  plenty  of  corn  and  fodder,  for  they  have  left  me 
scarcely  anything  to  feed ;  but  I  am  afraid  that  your  men 
will  have  to  put  up  with  a  scanty  allowance." 

"  They  have  plenty  of  meat  in  their  haversacks,  and  some 
bread ;  if  you  can  furnish  me  a  little  more,  that  will  be 
sufficient." 

There  was  an  abundance  of  corn-meal  upon  the  premises, 
so  that  difficulty  was  soon  settled.  When  their  horses  were 
fed,  and  the  usual  nightly  precautions  taken,  Rogers  en- 
tered the  old  man's  dwelling,  whose  family  consisted  of  him- 
self and  his  wife,  with  two  orphan  grandchildren.  The 
little  ones  were  nearly  as  wild  as  savages ;  and  though 
they  had  been  assured  that  these  were  soldiers  from  whom 
they  had  nothing  to  dread,  they  shrank  together  in  a  cor- 
ner, and  remained  there  mute  and  stirless  during  the  whole 
of  his  visit. 

The  old  people  greeted  him  cordially  enough,  and  he 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  317 

seated  himself  by  the  log-fire  which  served  the  purpose  of 
both  heating  and  lighting  the  room.  After  some  remarks 
upon  indifferent  subjects,  Rogers  asked  : 

"  Can  you  tell  me  how  far  it  is  to  Johnson's  Gap  ?  I 
know  it  is  somewhere  about  here,  but  I  do  not  know  ex- 
actly where." 

"It  is  not  over  a  half  a  mile,  sir.  That's  my  name. 
The  gap  was  called  after  me,  because  I  was  the  first  settler 
in  these  parts." 

"  Not  more  than  half  a  mile  1"  repeated  Rogers.  "  Then 
you  must  have  had  troublesome  visitors  frequently;  for  I 
am  told  that  is  the  only  passway  from  the  west." 

"  The  only  one  near  here,  sir ;  but  there  is  another  four 
or  five  miles  south  that  they  can  get  through,  though  it's 
pretty  rough." 

"  They'll  not  go  southward,"  said  Rogers;  "and,  if  they 
do,  they'll  get  into  hot  water  pretty  soon.  They  cannot 
get  away  in  that  direction." 

So  saying,  he  bid  the  old  couple  "good-by,"  and,  declin- 
ing their  invitation  to  sleep  in  the  house,  returned  to  his 
men.  Large  camp-fires,  which  the  cool  nights  of  October 
rendered  particularly  grateful,  were  still  blazing  brightly. 
Spreading  his  blanket  on  the  ground  before  one  of  them, 
and  taking  his  seat  upon  it,  he  sent  for  Franklin  to  hold 
a  consultation  as  to  the  best  course  to  be  adopted  on  the 
morrow.  His  lieutenant  strongly  insisted  upon  moving 
forward  to  the  gap  by  daylight,  and  placing  th^  troop 
where  it  could  not  be  seen,  but  where  it  would  at  the  same 
time  completely  command  the  pass.  In  this  way  he  argued 
that  not  a  single  marauder  who  was  driven  before  Miller's 
force  could  escape. 

"They  must  come  out  here,"  he  said,  "or  go  south. 
They  cannot  stay  where  they  are,  for  Miller  knows  every 
hole  and  hiding-place  in  the  mountains ;  and  if  they  cross 

28* 


318  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

the  ridge  anywhere  below  us  we  can  easily  overtake  them, 
and  cut  them  to  pieces.  We  have  only  to  stay  here,  and 
they  will  rush  right  into  our  hands.  If  we  move  forward, 
they  may  get  around  our  flanks  and  escape." 

Captain  Rogers  was  not  of  that  class  of  soldiers  who 
delight  in  acting  in  opposition  to  the  opinions  of  their 
subordinates.  He  knew  the  value  of  good  advice,  no 
matter  from  what  quarter  it  emanated,  and  was  very  far 
from  rejecting  it  because  it  came  from  an  inferior.  He  saw 
at  once  the  sound  good  sense  of  Franklin's  suggestion,  and 
resolved  to  adopt  it, — taking,  however,  at  the  same  time 
the  precaution  of  sending  four  men  to  guard  the  lower 
(or  southern)  pass. 

During  that  day  his  men  remained  patiently  at  the  posts 
to  which  they  had  been  moved.  At  night  no  camp-fires 
were  lighted,  and  not  a  sound  broke  the  stillness  that 
reigned  in  the  solitary  pass.  About  midnight  two  men 
came  riding  through.  They  were  conversing  uncon- 
cernedly, wholly  unconscious  of  danger.  Almost  before 
they  were  aware  of  it  they  were  seized,  their  arms  pin- 
ioned behind  them,  and  then  they  were  led  quietly  to  where 
the  main  body  were  sleeping.  JSTot  a  question  was  asked. 
Their  legs  were  also  secured,  and  they  were  left  on  the 
ground  to  ruminate  upon  the  difference  between  the 
license  of  their  present  mode  of  life  and  the  restraints  of 
a  Northern  prison. 

During  that  night  no  others  made  their  appearance,  but 
the  next  day  the  look-out  reported  the  approach  of  a  con- 
siderable body.  It  turned  out  that  they  were  fifteen  in 
number.  They  had  been  divided  into  smaller  squads,  but 
as  they  were  driven  before  Miller,  they  met  and  united  in 
one  body.  Seeing  only  seven  or  eight  men  in  the  gap  they 
at  first  mistook  them  for  friends,  but  being  soon  undeceived 
upon  that  point,  they  unslung  their  carbines  and  prepared 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  319 

to  force  a  passage.     Allowing  them  to  approach  within 
short  rifle  range,  Rogers  poured  in  a  deadly  fire  from  each  ' 
side  of  the  mountain-pass  where  his  men  were  concealed, 
which  was  also  the  appointed  signal  for  the  party  in  front 
to  charge. 

The  frightened  guerrillas,  who  still  retained  their  saddles 
unhurt,  wheeled  their  horses  and  fled  in  the  direction  from 
which  they  had  come. 

Anticipating  something  of  this  sort,  Miller  had  extended 
his  flanks  to  their  utmost  capacity.  He  was  much  nearer 
to  them  than  the  fugitives  supposed.  They  had  not  gone 
far  before  they  found  themselves  inclosed  in  a  semicircle, 
from  which  there  was  no  escape.  Every  man  was  either 
killed  or  captured.  The  prisoners,  including  those  previ- 
ously taken  by  Miller  and  the  two  captured  by  Rogers  in 
the  gap,  amounted  to  eleven  in  all.  These  were  carried  to 
Stevenson,  and  from  thence  transported  to  Nashville,  for 
such  disposition  as  the  Federal  commander  at  that  point 
might  see  fit  to  make  of  them. 

While  Miller  proceeded  to  Stevenson  with  his  prisoners 
and  the  main  body  of  his  troop,  Thomas  Rogers,  with  a 
few  picked  men,  remained  to  pay  a  visit  to  his  old  friend 
Dr.  Griffin. 

They  met  as  men  meet  in  troubled  times,  when  they  know 
that  an  hour  of  parting  must  soon  come,  and  cannot  tell 
whether  they  shall  ever  meet  again.  But  it  was  not  to  visit 
the  kind-hearted  doctor  alone  that  Thomas  Rogers  allowed 
himself  this  brief  respite  from  duty.  He  had  in  contempla- 
tion a  meeting  still  dearer,  and  more  anxiously  looked  for, 
but  one  which  he  thought  it  necessary  to  bring  about  by 
apparent  accident,  and  for  which  he  desired  to  give  some 
plausible  reason  other  than  the  one  which  really  governed 
him.  Whether  he  succeeded,  and  how  he  succeeded,  and 
what  was  the  result,  we  reserve  for  another  chapter. 


CHAPTER  XYI. 

Thomas  Rogers  remained  for  several  days  at  Dr.  Grif- 
fin's hospitable  mansion.  In  the  daytime  his  old  friend  was 
generally  absent  from  home,  attending  to  his  professional 
duties.  At  such  periods,  Rogers  would  take  long  walks, 
always  in  the  direction  of  Mrs.  Whitlock's  house.  Some- 
times he  would  seat  himself  where  he  had  a  full  view  of  the 
premises,  and  remain  for  hours  waiting  to  catch  a  glimpse 
of  the  form  that  had  become  to  him  a  holy  and  a  worshiped 
thing.  And  when  disappointed,  as  he  generally  was,  he 
would  rise  and  go  away  with  sad  and  mournful  steps,  as 
if  some  great  calamity  had  suddenly  come  upon  him.  At 
length  his  patient  watchfulness  was  rewarded.  One  morn- 
ing he  saw  her  come  forth,  mount  a  horse  which  was 
standing  ready  saddled  at  the  gate,  and  ride  away.  He 
marked  the  road  she  had  taken ;  hastily  returned  to  Dr. 
Griffin's,  saddled  and  mounted  his  own  steed,  and  rode  in 
the  direction  he  had  seen  her  take.  "I  shall  not  miss  her," 
he  muttered,  "for  I  could  follow  her  horse's  tracks  if  they 
made  no  more  impression  upon  the  earth  than  the  moc- 
casin of  an  Indian.     Instinct  would  lead  me  aright." 

Then  the  idea  occurred  to  him  that  she  had  g9ue  to  visit 
a  neighbor,  and  would  probably  remain  all  day.  "Xo  mat- 
ter," was  his  inward  comment,  "  I  can  wait ;  I  have  waited 
longer  than  that  for  objects  less  dear  and  less  worthy.  I 
can  surely  wait  now." 

While  thus  ruminating,  he  had  unconsciously  touched 
his  mettled  courser's  side,  more  than  once,  with  the  spur. 
(320) 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  321 

The  animal  had  gradually  increased  his  pace ;  and  when 
consciousness  fully  returned,  his  master  found  himself  borne 
along  in  greater  haste  than  he  cared  for  any  one  to  observe. 
On  arriving  at  the  road,  or  rather  pathway,  that  Ella  had 
taken,  he  found  no  difiQculty  in  following  the  tracks  of  her 
horse,  they  being  the  only  ones  apparently  by  which  it  had 
been  trodden  for  a  week.  She  must  have  ridden  very 
slowly,  for  as  he  came  in  sight  of  a  house,  about  two  miles 
distant  from  her  mother's,  he  saw  a  man  leading  her  horse 

to  the  stable. 

"  She  has  just  gone  in,"  he  thought ;  "  and  from  their  put- 
ting up  her  horse  it  is  clear  that  she  will  remain  during  the 
greater  part  of  the  day ;  but  she  will  not  stay  away  from  her 
mother  at  night,  and  I  shall  meet  her  as  she  returns  home- 
ward."    Pviding  slowly  back  on  the  path  he  had  come,  he 
turned  into  the  woods  where  there  was  a  thick  undergrowth 
of  bushes,  when  he  alighted  and  stretched  himself  upon  the 
grass,  to  wait,  with  a  patience  he  knew  would  meet  its  re- 
ward, for  the  intervening  hours  to  roll  away.     Toward 
evening  he  again  rode  forward  in  the  direction  he  expected 
to  meet  her,  but  observing  no  sign  of  her  coming,  he  rode 
backward  and  forward  along  the  little  path  until,  at  last, 
he  was  gratified  by  seeing  her  horse  led  out,  and  soon 
afterward  she  herself  came  forth,  and,  shaking  hands  with 
the  members  of  the  family,  started  on  her  homeward  way. 
Making  a  circuit  through  the  woods  to  allow  her  time  to 
come  up,  he  again  entered  the  path  but  a  few  yards  in  ad- 
vance of  her.     She  turned  crimson  when  she  saw  him,  and 
he,  long  and  eagerly  as  he  had  sought  that  meeting,  and 
prepared  for  it  as  he  was,  trembled  like  an  aspen.     When 
the  first  salutations  were  over,  he  inquired,  with  assumed 
ignorance,  where  she  had  been  riding.     It  is  doubtful  if  he 
heard  the  answer;  it  is  certain  that  he  never  could  remem- 
ber it  afterward. 


322  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

His  next  effort  at  conversation  was : 

"As  I  am  going  your  way,  Miss  Ella,  may  I  have  the 
pleasure  of  escorting  you  home  ?" 

"Surely,"  she  replied.  "Thanks  to  you,  we  need  no 
protection  here  now ;  but  Captain  Rogers's  company  must 
be  always  agreeable  to  his  friends." 

He  was  both  gratified  and  abashed  by  this  speech ;  grati- 
fied at  her  speaking  so  frankly  of  him  as  a  friend,  but 
abashed  and  uneasy  at  her  quick  resumption  of  her  usual 
unembarrassed  air. 

They  rode  on,  side  by  side;  the  only  conversation  being 
such  as  was  elicited  by  occasional  questions  from  her.  He 
felt  keenly  that  he  was  losing  the  opportunity  he  had  so 
eagerly  sought ;  but,  for  the  life  of  him,  he  could  not  break 
the  spell  that  bound  him.  When  they  came  within  sight 
of  her  mother's  house,  he  suddenly  summoned  courage,  and, 
laying  his  hand  upon  her  bridle,  said : 

"Ella,  we  must  not  part  yet;  I  have  anxiously  sought 
this  interview,  though  I  did  not  care  to  tell  Dr.  GriflBn  or 
your  mother ;  but  I  have  no  wish  to  conceal  the  fact  from 
you.  I  am  going  upon  a  hard  and  dangerous  service,  and 
you  know  me  well  enough  to  be  certain  that  I  shall  not 
lag  behind  when  brave  men  are  seeking  honor  at  the  can- 
non's mouth.  In  the  battle  which  drives  Gen.  Bragg  from 
the  heights  around  Chattanooga,  I  will  have  to  meet  a  dif- 
ferent enemy  from  the  robber  bands  whom  I  have  so  easily 
defeated  here.  Gen.  Bragg's  soldiers  are  thoroughly  dis- 
ciplined veterans.  Their  charge  is  the  most  terrible  thing 
I  ever  witnessed.  Victors  or  vanquished,  their  pathway  is 
always  strewn  with  corpses,  and  marked  by  rills  of  blood. 
These  are  the  men  I  must  meet  now ;  and  I  need  not  tell 
you  that  those  who  do  so,  if  they  expect  to  come  off  vic- 
torious, must  carry  their  lives  in  their  hands.  The  chances 
are  even,  Ella,  that  we  will  never  meet  again;  and  there- 


TOBIAS    WILSON.  323 

fore  I  wished  to  see  you  once  more  before  I  left  your 
neighborhood,  perhaps  forever." 

Ella  Whitlock  had  been  in  tears  during  the  latter  part 
of  this  speech.  At  its  conclusion,  she  raised  her  eyes  to 
his,  and  said : 

"I  know  you  must  go,  and  that  you  must  discharge 
your  duty  when  there.  I  would  not  hinder  you  if  I  could. 
But,  surely,  there  is  no  occasion  for  incurring  any  unusual 
danger?" 

"Indeed  there  is.  Upon  this  battle  depends  the  fate, 
not  merely  of  Chattanooga,  but  of  Georgia,  Tennessee, 
and  a  large  part  of  Alabama.  In  that  mountainq.us 
country,  cavalry  or  mounted  men  will  be  useless.  We 
shall  be  dismounted,  and  sent,  as  light  troops,  to  the  front. 
We  will  be  first  in  the  advance  and  last  in  the  retreat; 
and  if  we  should  be  compelled  to  meet  one  of  those 
charges  in  mass  which  won  them  the  field  at  Chicka- 
mauga,  and  the  first  day's  fight  at  Murfreesborough,  they 
will  walk  over  us  as  easily  as  the  buffalo  tramples  the 
grass  of  the  prairie  beneath  his  feet.  Neither  I  nor  the 
most  of  my  men  can  afford  to  be  taken  prisoners.  We 
are  fighting  with  halters  about  our  necks,  and  our  dead 
bodies  are  all  that  an  enemy  is  likely  to  capture.  So  if 
you  hear  that  the  Union  army  is  defeated,  put  me  down 
as  among  the  number  of  those  who  will  never  return." 

"Spare  me  I"  she  said.  "My  thoughts  will  be  dark 
enough  without  hearing  more  of  your  danger.  Indeed, 
you  have  told  me  too  much  already." 

"And  will  you  think  of  me,  sweet  Ella,  when  that  fear- 
ful struggle  comes  ?  It  will  not  tax  your  memory  long. 
The  last  of  Sherman's  veterans  are  passing  up.  The  bat- 
tle cannot  now  be  delayed.  Promise  to  think  of  me  then, 
and  danger  will  sit  upon  me  as  lightly  as  the  dew-drop  on 
the  floweret's  leaf." 


324  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

"How  can  I  help  thinking  of  you?  Can  I  forget  that 
you  periled  your  own  liberty  to  save  my  youngest  brother 
from  conscription  ?  Or  how,  when  both  of  their  manly 
forms  were  wrapped  in  bloody  shrouds,  you  came  to  my 
mother,  and  did  all  that  a  son  could  do  to  pour  balm  into 
her  wounded  heart,  and  save  us  from  the  losses  that 
threatened  us  ?  I  must  be  changed,  indeed,  before  I  can 
forget  such  acts  as  these,  or  fail  to  think  of  him  who  per- 
formed them." 

"But  that  is  not  the  way,  Ella,  in  which  I  wish  you  to 
think  of  me.  I  would  have  you  think  of  the  future,  not 
of  the  past." 

She  hesitated,  and  then  said  seriously,  but  not  angrily: 

"I  thought  we  had  a  contract  not  to  speak  of  that  for 
six  months  to  come." 

"True;  and  I  was  very  wrong  to  forget  it.  Forgive 
me  for  trespassing  upon  forbidden  ground.  I  had  no 
right  to  expect,  I  did  not  expect,  the  reversal  of  a  sen- 
tence to  which  I  myself  agreed.  But  my  impetuous  feel- 
ings carried  me  away,  and  I  forgot  our  compact,  as  well 
as  the  more  bitter  reflection,  that  the  law  of  man  and  the 
law  of  God  alike  require  ample  atonement  for  blood- 
shed." 

"It  is  not  that,"  she  replied,  hastily;  "it  is  not  that. 
I  could  have  decided  that  before  now " 

She  stopped  suddenly,  as  she  saw  the  bright  light  that 
flashed  in  his  eyes,  afraid  that  she  had  said  too  much. 

"Go  on !"  he  said,  in  a  pleading  tone,  as  she  raised  her 
handkerchief  to  her  face  to  hide  the  crimson  flush  that 
spread  over  it. 

"  No,  Captain  Rogers,"  was  the  reply.  "  I  must  not 
forget  our  contract,  though  you  have  done  so  twice.  Let 
us  go  in.     You  will  wish  to  tell  my  mother  good-by,  and 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  326 

anything  further  you  have  to  say  to  me  can  be  said  in  her 
presence,  I  suppose,  without  embarrassment  to  you." 

To  this  Captain  Rogers  made  no  objection.  His  man- 
ner was  far  less  grave  than  it  had  been  for  many  days,  and 
he  remained  for  some  time  conversing  with  Mrs.  Whitlock, 
exhibiting  none  of  that  restraint  that  would  have  afflicted 
him  an  hour  before.  On  his  way  back  to  Dr.  Griffin's  he 
indulged  himself  in  many  a  joyous  dream,  such  as,  alas  I 
are  seldom  realized  in  this  world  of  ours.  But  upon  one 
point  he  could  not  be  mistaken.  Ella  Whitlock  surely  did 
not  regard  the  blood  he  had  shed  before  he  became  a  sol- 
dier as  an  insuperable  barrier  to  their  union.  The  few 
words  she  had  been  surprised  into  uttering,  left  no  doubt 
of  this  upon  his  mind. 

"I  shouldn't  be  surprised,"  he  said  to  himself,  "if  I  was 
mistaken  about  Sophy;  and  it  might  not  have  gone  as 
hard  with  Toby  as  I  thought,  if  he  had  done  what  I  did 
for  him.  But  no,"  he  continued;  "it  would  have  been  all 
up  with  him.  There's  a  good  deal  of  difference  between 
Sophy  and  Ella ;  and,  besides,  she  had  Toby's  mother,  with 
her  strait-laced  notions  of  religion,  to  back  her,  while 
Ella's  mother  looks  at  things  altogether  differently.  I 
know  well  enough  her  daughter  told  her  all ;  and  I  am 
pretty  certain  I  shall  never  hear  of  that  stumbling-block 
again,  unless  I  am  foolish  enough  to  allude  to  it  myself, 
which  I  think  I  will  be  very  clear  of  doing." 

Other  soliloquies  broke  from  his  lips  as  he  rode  toward 
Dr.  Griffin's  house,  all  showing  that  the  brightness  and 
beauty  of  hope  were  shining  in  upon  his  heart.  Oh  how 
prone  we  are  to  believe  that  every  gilded  fancy  that  passes 
through  the  brain  will  turn  out  to  be  a  reality  I  How  apt 
are  we  to  forget  that  there  is  a  stern  and  pitiless  Deity,  who 
follows  us  by  day  and  reposes  by  our  side  at  night,  forever 

29 


326  TOBIAS    WILSON. 

watching  what  golden  thread  he  can  break,  what  joy  he  can 
poison,  and  what  hope  he  can  extinguish  forever  !  In  the 
buoyancy  of  youth,  and  the  happiness  of  a  love  which  he 
believed  to  be  already  half  won,  Thomas  Rogers  thought 
not  of  the  shadow  and  the  night,  which  so  often  settle 
where  the  sunshine  once  rested  and  the  springing  flowers 
sent  forth  their  sweetest  perfume.  He  was  happy  now, 
and  acted  wisely  in  not  looking  beyond  the  present,  or 
allowing  his  imagination  to  conjure  up  the  dread  images 
that  reason  and  reflection  alike  tell  us  will  come  soon 
enough  of  themselves  to  scatter  mourning  along  a  path- 
way of  gladness. 

His  departure  had  been  fixed  for  the  following  morning. 
Before  his  last  interview  wth  Ella,  he  would  have  gone 
away  without  uttering  a  word  of  his  love  to  any  human 
being;  but  now  his  heart  was  yearning  for  a  confidant, 
and  that  night  he  related  all  that  had  passed — all  his 
hopes,  fears,  doubts,  and  anxieties  —  to  Dr.  Griffin,  and 
vainly  tried  to  extract  a  promise  from  the  doctor  that  he 
would  keep  him  constantly  advised  of  all  that  occurred  in 
the  family  of  Mrs.  Whitlock. 

"I  do  not  ask  you,"  he  added,  "to  tell  me  anything  that 
Ella  says  or  does,  unless  she  knows  that  you  mean  to  re- 
peat it.  But  any  message  from  her,  however  simple,  will 
be  very  sweet." 

"I  shall  make  no  promises,"  said  the  doctor,  rising  and 
turning  his  back  to  the  fire.  "I  do  not  mean,  at  my  years, 
to  turn  love-messenger,  to  convey  sweet  nothings  from  a 
foolish  girl  to  an  equally  foolish  young  man.  I  may  write 
to  you  occasionally,  but  I  shall- not  trouble  myself  about 
what  she  says;  and,  mark  you,  don't  fill  your  letters  to  me 
with  any  nonsense  about  your  love,  for  I  doubt  if  I  shall 
take  the  trouble  to  tell  her  that  you  are  even  in  the  land 
of  the  living." 


TOBIAS     WILSON.  327 

Thomas  Rogers  knew  better;  and  he  rose  from  his  seat 
with  a  smile,  saying : 

"Well,  doctor,  you  always  would  have  your  own  way. 
I  must  leave  you  to  act  as  your  own  feelings  prompt.  I 
know  that  will  be  kindly." 

"But  I  don't  mean  to  let  my  feelings  have  anything  to 
do  with  it.  I  like  the  girl,  and,  if  the  truth  must  be  told, 
I  like  you  too,  although  I  can't  call  to  mind  anything  about 
you  that  is  particularly  worth  liking.  But  I  do  like  you 
both,  and,  if  I  were  to  let  my  feelings  control  me,  I  should 
be  doing  fifty  silly  things  that  you  want  done,  and  are  both 
afraid  to  say  you  want." 

".Be  it  as  you  please,  doctor.  And  now  I  must  leave 
you  to  your  repose.  I  will  wake  you  early  in  the  morning, 
for  I  must  be  on  my. way  before  daylight  makes  its  appear- 
ance in  the  eastern  sky." 

"You  must  not  go  yet,"  replied  the  doctor.  "I  want 
to  ask  you  many  questions  about  Tobias  Wilson.  I  have 
been  too  busy  in  the  daytime,  since  you  have  been  here, 
and  too  tired  at  night,  to  ask  you  half  I  wish  to  know." 

Rogers  again  took  his  seat,  and,  when  all  the  doctor's 
queries  were  answered,  he  rose  to  seek  his  couch,  saying 
warmly  as  he  did  so  ; 

"  In  one  word,  doctor,  he  is  better,  and  braver,  and  more 
gifted  than  any  of  us.  His  proper  place  is  in  a  higher 
walk  than  mine,  and  I  am  glad  that  he  has  found  it  out; 
for,  although  I  miss  him  sorely,  I  would  not  have  his  genius 
fettered  by  such  a  career  as' suits  me,  and  which  I  must 
follow  until  peace  returns'  to  bless  our  land,  or  this  body 
makes  a  feast  for  wolves  and  vultures." 

The  next  morning,  long  before  the  sun  had  made  his  ap- 
pearance above  the  horizon,  Thomas  Rogers  was  on  his  way 
to  rejoin  his  command,  who  only  awaited  his  coming  to  take 


328  TOBIAS     WILSON. 

up  the  line  of  march  for  one  of  those  terrible  scenes  of  car- 
nage, in  which  our  little  ambition  so  often  prompts  us  to 
seek  glory  at  the  risk  of  a  grave.  But  it  would  be  unjust 
to  ascribe  such  motives  to  the  great  mass  of  the  combat- 
ants. On  the  contrary,  higher  impulses  and  more  noble 
aspirations  led  them  on ;  and  the  heroism  they  manifested 
may  almost  be  claimed  as  the  offspring  of  religion. 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wilmer 
229 


